


Remember Me

by whyyesitscar



Series: post "loss" [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Multi, of course featuring the rest of the squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-06
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 37,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyyesitscar/pseuds/whyyesitscar
Summary: A year after 'Home', Alex and Liv find themselves involved in a case that gets under their skin. What happens when the perp gets too close to one of them?





	1. Chapter 1

_Alex_

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" The judge's voice sears through me like it's the knife and I'm the butter. If I'm going to win a case, I generally know it; I have a feeling, an instinct that flares up within in me.

"We have, Your Honor."

I have no such instinct right now. It is with a heavy heart and a flicker of hope that I await the verdict.

"On the sole count of the indictment, rape in the first degree, how do you find?"

I hold my breath.

"We find the defendant, Malcolm Halkyard, not guilty."

I expel my breath through my nose in a frustrated huff. I'm not surprised that we didn't win because this slimebag is one big schmoozer, but I still wanted to win this for Olivia. This case really got under her skin, and I'm pretty sure this loss will not do anything good for our home life.

When I see her storm out of the courtroom after Malcolm throws her a smirk, I know I'm right.

/

_Olivia_

I can't believe he got off. This guy molests six kids and he gets off. Of course, we could only prosecute one because of the statute of limitations, but still. He's a dirtbag, and he got off. It makes my blood boil.

I know I shouldn't be mad at Alex, but right now, it's the easiest thing for me to do. Being mad at her gives me something tangible to take my anger out on; being mad at the system doesn't.

I had planned on waiting for Alex so we could walk out together, but once Malcolm smirks at me, I can't stand it any longer. I bolt out of the courtroom and speed just as quickly back home, knowing that Alex is right on my heels.

I know it sounds callous and mean, but I can't wait until she gets home so I can rip her a new one.

When she doesn't come home in the next half hour, I decide not to wait for her. I go into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. I'm not trying to sleep, but it happens anyway. I wake up a few hours later to the sounds of Alex's soft knocking and her voice whispering my name.

"Liv? Are you okay?"

I turn on my side, my back to her. "Go away, Alex."

I can hear the shuffle of her feet as she makes her way to the bed. She sits down and puts a hand on my back, from which I immediately recoil. "Liv, please don't be mad at me. It's not fair."

"What's _not fair_ , Alex, is the fact that six kids were molested and we couldn't even pin the guy who did it. You were supposed to put him away," I respond rudely.

She expels a frustrated sigh from her nostrils and I know she's trying to keep her cool. "Olivia, ultimately it's not up to me. It's up to the jury. You know that."

"If you had tried harder, maybe they would have made the right decision."

"Well, if you really want to go down that road, maybe I wouldn't have had to try so hard if you guys had gotten me better evidence. No DNA, nothing that physically linked him to the kids, and you practically had to force-feed the kids their stories."

I sit up and glare at her. "I can't believe you just said that," I say tersely.

She looks back at me with matching ferocity. "And I can't believe you're blaming me for this. Grow up, Olivia. Take your licks. We can't get everyone."

"Well, we should have gotten this one!" I yell at her. " _You_ should have gotten this one! You should have done your job."

"I did my job, Olivia. Maybe if you had done _yours_ , we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh, that's real classy, Alex. Blame everyone but yourself for this."

"That's the difference between us, Olivia. I do blame myself partially for this, and I can live with that. I've gotten over it. It seems you haven't, however."

"No, Alex, the difference between us is that I'm dedicated to my job and you're not," I say accusingly.

As soon as the words slip out of my mouth, I know I've gone too far. So does Alex. A hard glint forms in her eyes and she purses her lips so hard they turn white. "Fine. If that's what you think, maybe I'll just go dedicate myself to my job a little more." She grabs her keys and walks out the door, imitating my actions from a year ago.

_Sucks to be on this end_ , I think with a scowl on my face.

/

_Alex_

After I walk out of the apartment, I debate going over to Elliot's. He and I have gotten closer over the year as Liv and I have had our share of fights and make-ups, to which Elliot has also been fairly central. In the end, I decide to simply call him and retreat to my office, which would feel a lot more comforting right now.

I dial his number as I start my car.

"Stabler."

"Do you have to sound like a cop _every_ time you pick up your phone?" I joke.

He laughs. "Sorry, can't help it. What's up, Alex?"

I sigh heavily. "You need to go and talk to Liv right now because she's being a little ridiculous. Some major shit hit the fan after Halkyard got acquitted –"

"Halkyard got _off_?" Elliot screams incredulously. "Why didn't you call us?"

I huff in frustration. "Well, it was between calling you guys and trying to smooth things out with Liv; what was I supposed to do? What would _you_ have done?" I ask angrily.

"Yeah, yeah, I see your point. I'm on my way over now. Where are you?"

"Way the hell away from her," I respond as I flip on my turn signal. "I don't trust myself right now."

"Okay. I'll call you when I get her calmed down."

"Might take a while," I sarcastically remark.

He grunts his agreement. "Tell me about it. Don't worry too much, Alex. It'll work out."

"Thanks, Elliot."

"Later," he clips as he hangs up the phone.

I snap my phone shut and grab my briefcase as I make my way to my office, thinking about how much it sucks to be the one doing the walking out.


	2. Chapter 2

_Elliot_

"Liv, you can't keep doing this to Alex."

"Doing what?" she asks, as if she doesn't know.

"Pushing her away. It's not fair."

She throws her hands up in frustration. "Jeez, is _anything_ fair these days? I thought you'd be on my side, Elliot."

"The only side I'm on, Liv, is the side that keeps you two from fighting. But do I think you're blowing this out of proportion? Hell yeah. Give Alex a break. It wasn't her fault."

"I know," she sighs. "But couldn't she have gotten this guy for me? He's a complete and utter douchebag. He got to me."

"Liv, he got to everyone, including Alex. I'm sure she's just as bothered by this as you are. But why do you keep blowing up at her with every argument? I mean, come on. Your nitpicking abilities rival those of the greatest stage mom."

She starts twiddling her thumbs, and I can tell that something is about to come up from that dark, twisted place in her soul. "I guess…I guess I'm just waiting for the day when she walks out on me. I mean, I know it's gonna happen; it's happened with everyone else in my life – mom, dad, girlfriends, whatever – so why delay the inevitable, right?"

My heart is breaking for her. "Liv, don't you think that if she was gonna leave, she'd have done it by now? I mean, she put her job on the line when she pretty much made out with you in the squadroom last year."

"I know, and that's just it. I mean, she deserves so much better than me. I mean, who am I, right? I can't talk to my girlfriend without it turning into World War 3, I spend way more time at the precinct than I do at home, and –"

"And I love you for it." Alex's voice makes Liv's eyes widen and I turn my head in shock.

She smiles gratefully at me and I decide that maybe I should go home. "I'll…I'll see you guys later."

The last thing I see as I walk out the door is Alex cradling Liv's silently quaking form.

/

_Alex_

The minute I get to my office, I realize the only place I should really be right now is at home. Liv can try to push me away as much as she wants, but that doesn't mean I have to abide by it.

When I get to our apartment, the door is slightly ajar. For one heart-stopping moment, I think that something terrible has happened, but my fears are assuaged when I hear Elliot's voice.

"…I mean, come on. Your nitpicking abilities rival those of the greatest stage mom." I have to stifle a laugh as I make my way closer as quietly as I can.

"I guess…I guess I'm just waiting for the day when she walks out on me. I mean, I know it's gonna happen; it's happened with everyone else in my life – mom, dad, girlfriends, whatever – so why delay the inevitable, right?"

My heart breaks in half when I hear Olivia's words. I can't imagine why she would feel the way she does; most of the time, I admire her strength and wonder how I was lucky enough to snag someone like her. I inch my way as close to the bedroom door as I can without being seen.

"Liv, don't you think that if she was gonna leave, she'd have done it by now? I mean, she put her job on the line when she pretty much made out with you in the squadroom last year."

I smile at Elliot's crude, though accurate, assessment of our relationship. I wish Olivia would really listen to him, but I know she won't. I've learned that when it comes to Olivia, it takes a pretty drastic measure to make her listen, and this isn't it.

"I know, and that's just it. I mean, she deserves so much better than me. I mean, who am I, right? I can't talk to my girlfriend without it turning into World War 3, I spend way more time at the precinct than I do at home, and –"

I can't take it anymore. "And I love you for it," I interrupt.

Olivia's eyes widen in trepidation, and Elliot turns sharply at the sound of my voice. I smile as a thank-you when I see how relieved he is that I'm here.

He leaves, but I'm barely aware of it. My eyes, my ears, and my heart are only open to Liv right now. I sit next to her on the bed and enfold her in my arms as she cries. It takes all I have not to cry myself when I feel her trembling.

I kiss her head, and even in a situation like this I can't help smiling at the familiar scent of her shampoo. "You okay?" I ask quietly, smiling down at her.

"No." Her voice is barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," I joke.

"I don't want to talk about this right now," she says, her tone testing, as if she's trying to get a rise out of me.

"Okay." Instead of taking the bait, I pull her under the covers. "Then let's just lie here for a while." She snuggles deeper into my embrace as I close my eyes and try to figure out how in the world I'm going to fix this.

We rest in silence for what is probably fifteen minutes, but it feels like a lot longer because we're both avoiding talking. I think about sleeping, but with my mind in such a whirlwind, I know it wouldn't happen.

I think Olivia has fallen asleep until I hear her mumble my name. "Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"You never answered my question."

I'm confused. "What question?"

I feel her squirm uncomfortably in my arms. "What are you doing here?"

"What, do you mean here in bed with you?"

She shakes her head and her hair tickles my arm. "No, I mean here with me at all. Why me?"

"Sweetie, it was always you. From the first time I saw you, the first time we argued and I saw how much you invest in every case, the first time I wanted to wipe away all your problems. There was never anyone else. Just you."

"But why?" she persists.

"That's like asking why anyone loves at all. I don't know if I could answer that."

"Well, try."

"Okay. You wanna know why we love? So we can be happy. So we know that there are people in this world who actually care about us. We love so we can feel validated, so we know that there is really is a reason we're here. Loving is the only thing we have in this world that allows us to truly live."

In the silence that follows I can feel her smiling. "You have quite a way with words, Alex Cabot."

I smile, too. "English major," I quip. I rub her arms in an effort to comfort her. "Liv, what has you so scared all of a sudden?"

"I dunno. I guess sometimes I don't really understand the concept of love. Sometimes I just don't get how one person can be worth your entire soul."

"I don't get it, Liv. How can you tell me you love me and ask me to let everything go when you can't do it yourself?"

"That's what I'm saying, Alex. I _can't_ expect you to do those things. So why don't you just cut your losses and find someone who can?"

I sigh in frustration. "Olivia, I'm not going to walk out on you just because you think I should. I'm not going to be like everyone else in your life, okay? Can you just, please, try to accept that I'm here because I want to be, because I _love_ you, because you have given me a reason to be myself. Do you get that?"

When she doesn't respond, I remember my earlier thought about drastic measures. I decide that maybe right now is the time for one. "Olivia, when you came and got me in Illinois, I told you I wasn't going anywhere. Now, I'm only going to ask this once, but whatever you say, I'm going to do. Do you really want me to leave?"

She doesn't respond right away, and I hold my breath when I think that maybe my instinct about her answer was wrong.

"No," she says finally. I smile at being proven right.

"I thought so," I say with a hint of smugness in my voice. "Do you want to keep talking about this?"

"Not really," she says timidly. "Could you just hold me?"

I smile as I kiss her forehead. "I'd love to."


	3. Chapter 3

_Olivia_

Over the next few hours, Alex and I stay in bed resting, eventually talking, sharing, crying. It is a new experience for me, baring my soul, but it feels inexplicably right. I've never felt closer to anyone than I do right now, and to be honest, it's a little scary. I haven't yet gotten used to Alex knowing everything about me. She doesn't yet, but I know she will eventually. It's a little hard to deal with right now, probably just as hard as it was for Alex to accept herself. Funny how our roles have completely switched over the past year. It's both a freeing and perplexing feeling.

Today, I am transparent and frail. I am light as a feather and all I can do is fall. But tomorrow…tomorrow I will be an iron eagle.

/

_Alex_

"Hey, babe?" I call out, even though I know Olivia hates it when I shout from a different room.

"Hmm?" she murmurs.

"Where the hell are the good plates?"

"Which ones are those?" she asks, as if she doesn't know.

"You know, the ones with the nice floral pattern on the edges." _The ones you hate_ , I almost add.

"Oh, uh, I don't really know," she says unconvincingly. Just as the words leave her mouth, I find the plates shoved into the back corner of the cabinet we never use. _As if I wouldn't look here_ , I think to myself. _Don't you know me by now, Liv?_

"Do you think they would be in the cabinet next to the stove?"

"Is that the one where the door always creaks?"

"Yeah."

"Probably not," she says after a moment.

"Then why did you ask?"

"Why did you?" Her voice startles me with its closeness; I look up to see her leaning on the doorway. "If you already know the answer, I mean," she clarifies.

I smile at her. "I'm a lawyer; what did you expect?"

Her smile is, if it's possible, wider than mine. "I guess I should have known."

I take the plates out with a clank, kissing her nose as I pass her on my way to the table. "No more hiding things, okay?"

She scoffs. "You're one to talk."

Now it's my turn to feign confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, please, Alex. Did you think I wouldn't notice how your nose is constantly buried in the top drawer of your dresser?"

I'm a little surprised to know she's caught onto me, but I pretend not to know what she's talking about. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on," she scoffs. "Whatever is in there is behind your socks in the far right corner."

"You must be seeing things; there's nothing there." I throw my words off casually, but I know she'll keep digging. I want her to. I want to know how much she knows.

"Okay. Then I'll go look right now." She is testing me.

I don't rise to her bait. "Fine by me."

She walks back to the bedroom and I can hear her ruffling through my drawer. I smile to myself because I know she'll never find it.

"Hey!" I hear her exclaim. "You moved it."

I look at her like she's crazy. "You can't move what wasn't there in the first place, Liv."

"No, I swear, there's something there. It was in a little plastic bag, like one you would get with a card or something –"

She cuts off so abruptly it makes me look up. "What?"

"What's in your pocket?" she asks, pointing at my jeans.

I look down. _How could she possibly see that?_ "What?" I repeat.

"Your pocket is ruffled. Like there's a bag in it," she says smugly.

Shock knocks down the walls of my pretense. "How in the _world_ did you see that?" I ask.

She smiles slyly. "I'm a cop; what did you expect?" She echoes my words.

I have no other response than to smile.

"So?" she urges. "What is it?"

I pull it delicately out of my pocket. "Here." I hand it to her.

I watch her face melt as she lifts the necklace out of its less-than-stellar wrapping. On a fine gold chain sits a small sun, its wavy rays extending gracefully outward. Inside is a beautiful blue sapphire.

"Oh, Alex…" she breathes reverently.

I clear my throat and step closer to her. "I was passing by a jewelry shop one day and I decided to buy it on a whim. I picked the sun shape because I want to remind you to be open – keep your mind open but most importantly, _be_ open. Don't shut people out, because we really do care. Let yourself be vulnerable every once in a while. I know it's hard, and it will be hard for a while, but I think what happened last week was really, really good for you. And the sapphire," I continue nervously, "means that I am loyal only to you. It means that I will be there to protect you; I will be there for everything you face. I will be there to heal every hurt, even if I'm the one who put it there."

Her eyes are liquid chocolate, filled with tears still threatening to fall. "All that explanation," she sniffles, "and you expect me to believe that you bought it on a whim?"

I laugh as I snake my arm around her waist. "I guess not. But it was worth a try."

She smiles, and when she looks in my eyes, I still see fear. "Alex, I –"

I cut her off before she can even start. "I know. I know it's a lot. But it just felt right, you know?" I give her a gentle squeeze. "Anyway, I'm not trying to pressure you. You don't even have to wear it right away. Just take your time, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," she whispers, smiling sweetly as she kisses my forehead.

I lean my head against hers as I run a comforting hand up and down her arm. "Why are you so afraid of commitment anyway?"

She immediately tenses; I can feel her muscles lock up. "I guess I just haven't seen enough of it in my life to really believe in it. Munch has gone through at least four wives, I don't know what Fin's deal is, and even though Elliot and Kathy love each other, they still can't keep it together."

I don't really think that's the root of her problems. "Cops have bad track records anyway. What about your parents?" I know virtually nothing of Olivia's past other than what she's let slip out on occasion, and I feel guilty. It doesn't seem right that there is something about her I don't know.

She lets out a loaded sigh before speaking. "It isn't really what my parents couldn't do as much as it is what my dad did."

"What did he do?" I gently pry.

"He raped my mom."

"Oh." I feel like I should say something, but for the life of me I can't think of the right words. How do you respond to that? "I didn't know you had any siblings," I say lamely.

Even though I'm not looking at her, I can feel her crying. "I don't," she says simply.

"Oh." For a moment I'm confused, but then realization hits. "Oh, Liv…"

She sniffles, pressing her fingers to her eyes, almost willing the tears back. "It's okay, Alex. I've dealt with it. Don't pity me, okay?"

My hurting heart is telling me otherwise, but I agree. "Okay."

We stay in silence for a moment, neither of us really knowing what to do. Olivia is the first to break the silence. "You know, I will wear that necklace."

I smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says casually. "Eventually."


	4. Chapter 4

_Alex_

Sipping my coffee, I pick up the plain white envelope on the table. It is addressed to me and it looks like all the others. My heart beats a little faster when I read it.

_My dearest Alex, maybe you didn't put him away because you secretly want him._

This isn't the first time I've gotten strange letters, but these are the first that actually creep me out.

"Hey." Liv comes in the room. I look up from my spot on the couch. "What's that?"

"Hm? Oh, just a weird letter." I don't want her to see it, but she reaches out her hand expectantly.

"Weird," she says with a frown. "Who's it from?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Some creep."

"Have you gotten these before?"

I am reluctant to tell her because I know how she'll react, but her eyes narrow in a glare, boring right through my hesitation.

"Yes," I mumble.

"How many?"

I huff in frustration. "Liv, stop being a cop…"

"How many, Alex?" she interrupts.

I can't take her gaze anymore. "This makes one a day for the last week," I say meekly. I hand her the rest of the letters to make her stop looking at me. Her eyes are making me sweat.

Her jaw clenches as she reads them. I can only imagine what she's thinking.

_Hey Alex, aren't lawyers supposed to put criminals in **jail** and not back out on the streets? Maybe you're not as good as you think._

_Dear Alex, maybe if you and your main squeeze paid more attention to detail, he'd be doing twenty to life instead of little kids._

_Alex, honey, sorry about that acquittal. Six kids, no justice. That's rough._

_What would you do if you knew exactly what those kids went through? What if it was Olivia?_

_Have you always been so beautiful, Alex? Or do you have a gangly, gawky kid inside you?_

_What does it say about you that you can't put away the slimiest of the scum of the earth?_

"Alex." Olivia looks at me sharply. "Why didn't you tell me about these?"

I sigh wearily. "Because I knew you'd react this way. It's nothing, Olivia."

"Nothing? Alex, this guy is stalking you! And how could you not know who it's from?" she asks as if it's all my fault.

"Olivia…" I start warningly.

"Oh, come on, Alex. Six kids? Mentioning the gawky body type? It's him."

I look at her defiantly, trying to tell her she's wrong with my eyes. I don't want to believe what she's insinuating. "Malcolm Halkyard is not stalking me, Olivia," I say testily.

"Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean it's not true."

I can't stay here too much longer. If she keeps this up, I'm going to break down, and I can't do that. I just can't.

"I'm going to work," I say as I grab my keys.

/

_Olivia_

"Liv? Hellooo? Anybody home?" I snap my eyes up to see Elliot staring at me.

"Hmm?" I say distractedly.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asks.

"A little," I say as I fling the letters across his desk.

He reads them without expression. "Malcolm," he says. It is not a question, it is a fact.

"Yeah," I nod. "She didn't tell me about them until today.

"What are you going to do?" he asks.

I shoot him a look. He nods in response. "I'm going with you."

/

_Elliot_

I'm worried about Liv. She's really taking this to heart. I mean, not that I wouldn't be; if it was Kathy or the kids, I'd be furious. But there is a manic quality to her eyes that I've never seen before.

"What are you gonna say to him?" I ask cautiously.

"I don't know, Elliot," she says, her tone implying that I should let it go.

But I can't. "Liv, you have to be sensible."

"Sensible?" she practically screams. "Sense went out the window when I saw the letters."

"It shouldn't have," I quietly admonish.

"Uh huh. And what if it was Kathy or the kids?" she asks, echoing my thoughts.

"I'd be doing exactly what you are," I acquiesce. "But that doesn't make it right, Liv."

"Save your speech for someone who cares, Elliot."

I don't say a word until we get to Halkyard's apartment and he's not there.

"Maybe this is for the best, Liv," I say quietly.

"No, Elliot, it isn't. I want to kill him, okay? And since that's not possible, I thought I'd settle for yelling at him and _threatening_ to kill him. And now I can't even do that."

Her phone rings and I wince, feeling sorry for whoever is about to bear the brunt of her rage. But she surprises me by answering in a soft voice.

"Hey baby," she trills. "How are you?" Her face immediately hardens. "Yeah, we'll be right there," she assures, her voice rushed. "I'm with Elliot….yeah…what? Nothing," she says evasively. "We'll be right there, okay? I love you." She hangs up the phone with an angry click.

"C'mon," she says as she walks briskly to the car. She throws me the keys. "We're going to Alex's office."

/

_Alex_

I got to my office and for a few hours, I was able to focus on my work instead of the growing knot in the pit of my stomach. Until twelve, I was completely immersed in the lovely chaos of depositions, warrants, and ridiculous motions. For once, it was a welcome relief.

At twelve, I rouse myself from my work and go out to lunch. I spend the next twenty minutes checking out every stranger who passes and eating in fear. My fear is only heightened when I return to my office and see what is affixed to my door. I only hope Liv and Elliot can get here fast enough.


	5. Chapter 5

_Olivia_

I know I'm pissing Elliot off. Even though he's flooring it with the siren on, he's not going fast enough for me. We should have been there five minutes before she called. _I_ should never have left her. All I can do is shake my legs in anticipation and run my hands through my hair. It's driving Elliot up the wall.

"Did she say what's going on?" Elliot asks as he turns, tires squealing.

"No. But it doesn't matter. She needs me; that's all I need to know," I explain.

Five minutes later and way too late, Elliot and I are racing to Alex's office. I slip a little as I barrel down the hallway. It gives me a little satisfaction to hear Elliot pant as he tries to keep up.

When I see what is on Alex's door, my blood runs cold. I clamp a hand over my mouth and nose, covering my nose while choking back a sob.

"Oh, my…"

"God," Elliot finishes for me.

/

_Elliot_

Olivia is going to drive me crazy. I get that she's worried, but it's not like Alex is dead or anything. I mean, I'm in shape but she's like a freaking bullet down the halls. I don't understand what's got her so spooked.

I almost run into Olivia as she slams to a stop in front of Alex's door. My body arrives before my mind, so it takes a while for me to notice what's going on. When I finally get caught up, I almost gag at the stench that assaults my nostrils.

"Oh, my…"

"God," I finish quietly, not really knowing what I'm saying.

The stiff carcass of the squirrel is nailed to Alex's door, its blood and juices dripping slowly down, making gory puddles on the floor.

Tears are slowly making their way down Alex's cheeks, and although they haven't started down Olivia's, I can see pools of wetness forming.

"Sammy," she breathes hoarsely.

"Who?" I ask, not able to take my eyes off the corpse.

"Sammy is – was – a squirrel we used to feed every now and then," Alex explains. "We'd leave food out for him, uh, sometimes water. He was our unofficial pet, I guess."

"How do you know it's him?"

"He was missing a bit of his tail. And look at this," she says, handing me a bloodstained letter.

_So long, Sammy_ , it reads.

My eyes snap to Alex's. "Alex, you have to do something to protect yourself. Maybe a protective detail…" I suggest cautiously.

"No." Alex is not the only one to answer; Liv chimes in as well.

"Alex, this is getting way out of hand. You need help."

"I can handle it, thanks, Elliot."

"Well then maybe I should remind you what happened when you thought you could handle the Colombian drug cartel." I know it's harsh, but this is a serious situation.

"Elliot," Liv admonishes. She's practically growling at me. With a quick nod of my head, I motion for her to join me in Alex's office.

I pinch my nose as I walk past Sammy. With my hands on my hips, I address Olivia. "Liv, you gotta let someone else help."

"I don't need any help, Elliot! I can handle this on my own," she yells.

"Oh, really? Doing a great job of it so far," I retort.

"Screw you, Elliot! I don't need you to tell me how to protect Alex."

"I'm not telling you how to do that, Liv, I'm asking you to _let_ me. Just…please. **Listen** for once, will you?" I ask angrily.

"I am listening, Elliot. Just not to you."

"You know, you can be really inconsiderate sometimes, Olivia," I say, my anger getting the best of me.

"Inconsiderate?" she screams.

"Yeah, inconsiderate. Did you ever think of Alex? What would you do if something ever happened to her, huh? Stop trying to be strong and just let someone be there for you."

The look on her face is nothing less than vicious. "And if I'm so inconsiderate, what do you call what you're doing now, Elliot?" She matches my rage, only hers is quiet and deadly.

"Trying to help you!" I yell.

"Well quit it! It's pissing me off, and trust me, you _really_ don't want to do that today," she murmurs threateningly. She is right in front of my face, our noses almost touching. Were the situation not so tense, I would laugh at its absurdity.

"Guys." Alex is suddenly there. I step away from Olivia, feeling a little embarrassed. "Cool it."

She turns to look at me. "Elliot, you don't know how much I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I think Olivia and I can handle it. And Olivia, calm down. Elliot's not trying to hurt you."

It still surprises me how quickly Olivia can switch from pissed-off cop to concerned girlfriend. Alex has a power over Olivia that I've never seen before. If we can put all this Malcolm business behind us, I think they'll be the happiest couple I've ever seen.

Alex grabs Liv's arms and steers her out of the room. I grab Alex's shoulder before she gets too far.

"Alex, how did he even know about Sammy? Just think about that, okay?" I plead.

She nods and leaves, placing something discreetly in my hand. I sigh as I exit, motioning for one of the interns.

"Get this cleaned up," I say, my voice laced with disgust.

/

_Alex_

"Liv, please. Just come to bed, will you? I don't want to be alone right now." For the past hour, Olivia has scoured every last inch of our apartment looking for anything out of the ordinary, gun in hand every minute.

She walks to the bedroom, checking behind her shoulder with every step. When we slide into bed, she wraps her arms around me, almost squeezing the breath out of me with her embrace. At the moment, it's the only place I actually feel safe.

I can only hope it will stay that way.

/

_Huang_

"Elliot! What can I do for you?" To say that I'm surprised to see Elliot standing at my door would be a bit of an understatement. This man is a rock, but right now, standing before me, he is as frail as a pebble.

"I need your help."

I step away from the door. "Come on in. What do you need?"

"I think Malcolm Halkyard is stalking Alex."

"Have you talked to Liv about this?" I ask, not really knowing what else to say.

He nods sadly. "Didn't work. Anyway, I need your help with something else. Tell me why he's doing this."

I'm confused. "I think it's pretty obvious, Elliot."

He hands me a picture. "How about now?" he asks.

I glance down and heave a heavy sigh. "Yeah, that'd do it."

The girl in the picture is awkward, gangly. I can tell she will be prettier later on in life, but her eyes tell me she doesn't think so. It is an old picture, but it is undoubtedly Alex Cabot.

"So now, why?" Elliot asks again.

"Well," I say thinking, "he's living vicariously through Alex's childhood. That she almost put him away is irrelevant. It fuels his rage, yes, but for now, she's just another one of his victims. She fits the body type, and he sees her as a kid to prey upon."

"So…what are you saying?" Elliot asks carefully.

"I'm saying he'll pursue her as doggedly as he would one of his victims. He's not going to rest until he gets her."

"And what'll happen if he does?"

I look at him pointedly. "What do you think?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Olivia_

"Alex. Alex." I shake her shoulders a little more. "C'mon, baby, wake up." For the past few nights, Alex has been having nightmares – whimpering, thrashing, sweat-inducing nightmares. It hurts me so much to watch her suffer and know that I can't do anything to fix it. I want nothing more than to make everything go away; kiss it and make it better. But matters of the mind are not so easily healed.

Alex wakes with a plaintive gasp, and I pull her close to me, stroking her hair as I try to calm her down.

"Shh…Alex, it's okay. It's okay, I've got you," I whisper soothingly.

"Liv?" she whimpers.

"Yeah, baby?" I ask as I kiss her forehead.

"What time is it?"

I look over at the clock. "3:17. I have to be at work in four hours," I say inanely.

For a moment, neither one of us speaks. We are simply lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the melancholy. It almost seems unnatural that I can feel so good, holding Alex, when everything else is so wrong.

"I can hear your heart beat," she finally says.

I don't respond; for a moment, I wasn't aware there were actually two heartbeats.

"Liv," Alex says cautiously, "maybe we _should_ think about getting some help. Maybe –"

"No," I protest vehemently. "I can take care of you just fine."

"I'm sure you can, sweetie. You're doing a great job of it so far. But it's not horrible to reach out every once in a while."

"Maybe not for you," I say, hoping she'll drop it. As soon as the words leave my lips, however, I realize they are begging to be questioned.

"Liv, no one will think any less of you if you ask for help."

"I'm not worried about everyone else, Alex, I'm worried about me."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you think I would feel if something happened to you, huh? What would it say about me that I couldn't even protect my own girlfriend? Me – a cop – and I can't do it."

Her tone turns icy. "Oh, okay, so I'm a girlfriend to whom you're devoted enough to protect, but you still won't wear a simple necklace so everyone else will know that."

"Alex, how can you even think of that right now, with things the way they are?"

"Because we're only talking about our _lives_ , Olivia! What use is that necklace if I'm not in yours anymore, huh?"

"Alex," I say hoarsely, "don't say anything like that. And besides, one has nothing to do with the other."

"Oh, of course it does!" she exclaims. "It's all about your fear of being vulnerable. Get over yourself, Olivia." Her tone softens. "You're allowed to crumble every once in a while."

I don't know what to say. For all my life, I've been a rock. Growing up with an alcoholic mother makes you learn not to show any emotion; feeling would set off the nasty side of my mother; the side, unfortunately, that I remember most.

"Alex," I say finally, "you just have to give me some time, okay? I know, I know, I didn't really give you that option, and maybe that's a little selfish of me, but it's just how it has to be, okay? But I will get there, I promise." _If only you knew how much I'm crumbling inside,_ I think.

Only when I pay attention to her deep, even breaths and feel her slack muscles do I realize she's fallen asleep.

/

_Alex_

I slip out of Olivia's arms when I wake up. If I can't change her mind, then I'm just going to have to do things on my own.

When I get to work, I drop my things in my office and head straight to the precinct, hoping to find Elliot there. As I near the doors, I hear Olivia's voice and my spirits are considerably flagged; this would be so much easier if she wasn't here.

"Liv, just think about this…" Elliot practically begs.

"I have, Elliot, so drop it. I'll be in soon, okay?" I sigh in relief when I realize she was only on the phone.

Mustering all the confidence I can, I stride into the squadroom, a brave smile plastered on my face.

Elliot practically jumps out of his seat when he sees me. "Alex! How are you?" he asks sincerely.

"I've been better. Listen, can we talk somewhere a little more private?"

"Sure," he says eagerly, steering me to the crib. "What's up?" he asks as he closes the door.

"I know Liv's been a little stubborn, and I guess I have, too. But I don't think we – I – can do it alone anymore." I sigh. Even though I may have committed myself to asking him this, it's still hard. "Could you…could you just be an extra set of eyes for me?" I ask, my words stumbling over each other.

He looks like a fifteen-year-old who's just been told she isn't pregnant. "Of course," she says softly.

"Great," I say, feeling like a huge weight is off my shoulders. "I'll just text you any time I go somewhere, okay?"

He nods. I squeeze his shoulder, and with a "thanks", I head back to my office.

/

_Olivia_

_Liv,_

_Don't worry, I'm okay. Sorry I'm not there to wake up with you, but I just need to be alone for a while. I love you._

_Alex_

A huge part of me wants to run out of here and hunt her down, go everywhere I think Alex would be just to make sure she's fine. But I can't do that. As much as I want to, I can't. I couldn't live with myself if I did.

As I mull it over in the shower, I realize that maybe I've been a little…headstrong with this whole thing. I make a promise to myself that I'll apologize to Alex today. She deserves my support, not my antagonizing.

Elliot calls as I'm making coffee. I don't want to talk to him; I know what he's going to say, and I don't want to hear it. But I know it'll be worse if I let it go.

"Hello?" I cradle the phone to my shoulder as I smear cream cheese on my bagel.

"Hey, Liv. How you doin'?"

"I've been better. What's up?"

He chuckles, though I can't imagine why. I raise my eyebrows expectantly, even though he can't see me. "Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I've been a little pushy about this whole thing. I'm not saying I'm backing off completely, because I can't. I just…wanted to say sorry."

"Oh." I am completely taken aback. Elliot doesn't apologize. "Thanks, El."

There is a silence, and I can sense that we're not done talking. "Liv, just think about this…" Elliot blurts, begging. As I listen to Elliot speak, I get the feeling that Alex is somehow there. I chalk it up to nerves and shake it off.

This is exactly what I didn't want to hear. "I have, Elliot, so drop it. I'll be in soon, okay?" I hang up, grab my bagel and badge, and head out the door, confident and with a brave smile on my face.

/

_Alex_

Texting Elliot whenever I move makes me feel like a reprimanded teenager, but I know it's putting his mind at ease. Truth be told, it's doing the same for me.

_Elliot – taking 20 at Luigi's._

I can't help but smile at his response. _Sit where you can be seen. Text me when you're in your office._

Lunch at Luigi's is not the relaxing experience it used to be. Every scrape of a chair, every cough, every stranger with a scowl is Malcolm. With every bite of my food, my apprehension grows. I didn't know they made garlic bread laced with fear.

The rest of my day passes in numbing sameness. 6:00 is a welcome relief, and I pack my bag with every intention of grabbing a good glass of wine, some chocolates, and sinking into a nice, long bubble bath.

As I make my way to my car, rooting around for my keys in my purse, the street goes silent. Eerily silent, like the quiet that comes after you turn off really loud music. I stop what I'm doing and listen, and it is then that I hear the quiet cocking of a gun.

I can feel the cold barrel against my bare neck.

"Hi, Alex. Miss me?"

/

_Olivia_

"Hey, Elliot, you heard from Alex lately?" I haven't talked to her since lunch, and it worries me.

"Yeah, last I heard she was heading home," he says, checking his phone.

I didn't know this, and I'm irked. "News to me," I say. So it shows. Big deal.

"What, you been keeping tabs on her all day?" I ask angrily.

"Uh, not by my choice, Liv. She asked me to."

I'm a little hurt that she wouldn't tell me, but I understand why she didn't. I wouldn't have liked it. I still don't. But I'll deal with it.

"Well…good. I was about to tell her to anyway." I try to pass off my irritation.

"Uh huh. I'm sure you were," Elliot says smugly.

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, I'm heading out."

As Elliot and I walk out the door, I can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

_Alex_

"Malcolm, you really don't want to do this," I say, trying to keep the quaver out of my voice.

"Shut up," he says tersely.

"I mean, you're not going to gain anything." I don't sound confident, but I'm still trying. I _have_ to try.

"Shut up," he repeats.

"I mean, you'll probably die. They're going to shoot you, you know that, right?"

"Shut UP!" he yells. "Just get in the car and drive, okay?"

My hands are trembling as I fumble for my keys, and beneath my calm exterior is a racing heart and a thin sheen of sweat. I am being kidnapped and all I can think of is how uncomfortable my shoes are. I would kill for a pair of slippers right now.

Malcolm follows me into the car, making sure to keep the gun on my head.

"Drive," he demands.

"Yes, oh grand exalted master," I quip sardonically. I can't help it; I breathe sarcasm.

He pushes the gun farther into my head. It hurts, and even though I wince, I don't think he knows I've responded. He's in the backseat and I didn't make a sound. I'm determined not to show him that he's getting to me because I know he would enjoy my suffering.

"You know, you got a pretty big mouth for someone about to die," he growls.

"And yet, I bet it's bigger than your dick, especially if you have to molest kids to feel like a man," I retort. I smile to myself; Liv must be rubbing off on me. Actually, that one felt like Elliot.

He doesn't answer, and I know I've hit a nerve.

"Turn here," he finally says.

The car ride passes in awful, foreboding silence. I try to enjoy the scenery as much as I can in the off chance that I might never see it again. I think of all my times with Liv – all the things I should have said, the things I shouldn't have said. I think about how happy I've been for the past year, and for a moment, I forget where I am.

"Stop."

Oh, yeah. Now I remember.

Malcolm shoves me out of the car and pushes me toward the doors of a grungy, old warehouse.

"Why is it always warehouses? You're really not original at all, Malcolm. Every pervert has to find a warehouse."

"I'm not a pervert, you bitch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I sneer. "I didn't realize normal people raped little children."

He breathes as if he's going to utter some foul retort, but he doesn't. "Keep talking all you want, _Counselor_ , because you won't be able to in a while."

For the first time tonight, I can't think of anything to say. Sweat rolls down my chest, and I can feel him smirking behind me.

Up until now, I had forgotten how terrified I am.

/

_Olivia_

The apartment is empty when I get home. I look around for a sign that Alex has been here – briefcase, shoes kicked off in frustration and fatigue – but I don't see any. Cool sweat starts to form on my forehead as I call Elliot.

"Stabler."

"Elliot, she's not here," I say, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"What?" Apparently he's trying to do the same. "What do you mean she's not there?"

"What do you think I mean?" I ask angrily. It takes a lot for me not to add, "You big dummy!"

"Well, where could she be?" he asks, his voice an octave higher than normal.

"I don't know, Elliot!" I yell. "You're the one she's been texting all day! You know what, screw this. I'm gonna call her." I hang up and immediately dial Alex's number.

When she doesn't answer the first time, I think maybe she's in the bathroom.

When it happens again, I tell myself that she's probably a little hammered because she's so worried about everything and she just can't get to it fast enough.

By the third time, I'm sprinting out the door.

Twenty minutes later, Elliot, Huang, and the rest of the guys are with me at the precinct. Beneath all the fear, I'm touched that they all responded so quickly. I think Alex would be, too.

"Olivia, what's going on?" Cragen asks, his voice full of worry. "All you said was that Alex was in trouble."

"I think Malcolm kidnapped Alex," I say hoarsely. "I need to get a trace on the line if…whoever calls. I just thought you guys would want to be here."

The minutes pass. The silence is stifling. Everyone utters their version of "She'll be okay," but I don't hear it. All I can think of is Alex – how beautiful she is, how much I love her, and of all the words I need to take back, and all the ones I have yet to say. I have so many things to tell her, and yet I can only think of one.

_I love you_.

The phone rings, and I hastily wipe the tears from my cheeks, snapping Huang to start a trace.

Before I can say anything, _he_ speaks.

"Hello, Olivia," he jeers.

"Malcolm," I say, my tone icy. "Where is she?"

"Oh, she's fine. A little…tied up, but otherwise okay."

"Prove it," I say challengingly.

There is a shuffle before she speaks. "Liv?" I swear, I could melt into a puddle right now. "Liv, don't worry about me, sweetie. I'm okay." She's trying to act brave for me, but I can hear the fear in her voice. "Liv, I just want you to know I lo –"

Suddenly, Malcolm is back. "Satisfied?" he asks slimily.

While he's talking, Huang gives me the address of the warehouse.

"See you soon, Malcolm," I say smugly as I hang up, not bothering to hear his answer.

/

_Alex_

Malcolm hangs up angrily. "Did you contact them?" he asks, steam practically shooting out his ears.

"How could I?" I retort. "You've had me tied to this chair for the past half an hour.

"Then how do they know to come here?" he yells hysterically.

I sigh in exasperation. "They're _cops_ , Malcolm. They're not stupid," I say in a way that hints that I think he is.

He jams the gun against my temple and I flinch. I close my eyes and grit my teeth, preparing myself. I am going to die.

"You better pray like hell that they get here soon enough," he hisses harshly in my ear.


	8. Chapter 8

_Elliot_

"Liv, maybe…"

"Elliot, you tell me to slow down one more time and I will waste you."

"I wasn't going to say 'slow down'. You just might want to start taking these turns on four wheels instead of two."

She shoots me a look and I suddenly feel like I'm five years old and I've just kicked the neighbor's cat.

"Or not, that's cool, too."

On any other day, the dirty warehouse would be just that. Today, however, it is a death trap, and Alex is caught in the middle.

Olivia gets out of the car and practically sprints to the door. I grab her arm and stop her before she gets too far.

"Liv, don't go crazy, okay? We can't afford to lose you, too."

She gives me a curt nod, and then we are racing through the warehouse, slipping stealthily through the shadows. The constant _drip-drip-drip_ of water onto a rusty pipe is the symphony of my fear.

In the middle of a dark, dank room is a figure tied to a chair, the shadows of her face erased by the glare of a blinding halogen light shining over her head. Instinct tells me to run to Alex, but my training forbids it.

On the other side of Alex, Liv gestures to me. I nod and step back – hidden, but not gone. Malcolm turns toward Liv as she inches her way closer, all the while pressing a gun tightly to the back of Alex's head.

/

_Olivia_

The gun to the back of Alex's head is the only way I know this is real. My feet would still be my feet if I were at home. My heart would pound just as much if I was watching a horror film. But Alex, Alex tied to the chair wouldn't be real anywhere but here.

I step slowly toward Malcolm and Alex, gun raised, making my presence known but not walking so fast as to scare him.

"Put the gun down, Malcolm," I say as calmly as I can.

He turns toward me with a snake-like smile. "Hello, Olivia."

"Put the gun down," I repeat.

His smile widens. "No, I don't think so. You've got a nice girlfriend here, Detective. I think I'll keep her for myself."

"You don't want here, Malcolm. She's no fun," I say flatly.

An evil gleam twinkles in his eyes. "Gonna shoot me, Detective?"

"Don't think I won't," I say menacingly.

"'Cause you know, if you shoot me, it's pretty likely my gun will go off, too."

"Shut up, Malcolm." I inch ever closer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elliot doing the same.

"Liv," Alex interrupts. "Just do it. Shoot him."

"Not yet," I say through gritted teeth.

"No, Liv! You shoot him now!"

"Yeah, c'mon, _Liv_ , shoot me!"

"Shut up, Malcolm!" I yell.

"Shoot him, Olivia!" Alex screams. I keep my eyes glued to Malcolm, watching for the slightest movement. "Look at me, Olivia." My eyes flit to Alex. "No, Liv, _look_ at me." I focus on Alex, the tears welling in my eyes precursors to the ones flowing freely down her cheeks. Even in such abject sorrow, she is still beautiful. "Listen to me, Liv. I love you, okay? You were the love of my life."

"Alex…" I start to protest. I know what she's doing. She's trying to get me to focus on her instead of…all this. She knows she's going to die, and she wants to tell me how she feels. I know what she's doing, but I still can't accept it.

"No!" she screeches hysterically. "You're not _listening_ to me!" she screams huskily through her sobs, pounding her feet on the floor in frustration. "Just…just shut up and listen to me, okay?" Her tone softens, but it is still desperate. "You were all my reasons for being happy, okay? There wasn't anyone before you, and there won't be anyone after. I love you with every fiber of my being and I always will. So you go home after all this is over, and you take that goddamn necklace and you wear it every day for the rest of your goddamn, fucking life. Remember that I love you, okay? You _remember_ me, Olivia Benson."

"SHUT UP!" Malcolm yells. He growls in rage as he strikes Alex hard on the back of her head with the gun, and things start to happen in very quick succession.

Two shots go off, and Malcolm is dead before he hits the ground. I yell "No!" as I rush toward Alex's slumped figure, head hanging heavily in the chair.

Suddenly, Elliot is there helping me untie the knots that bind Alex. My fingers fumble over each other in my frantic obsession to get her out. A few unsuccessful minutes pass before Elliot thinks to use a knife. I don't even know where he got it. Malcolm's lifeless body lies forgotten in a pathetic heap on the cold floor.

As Elliot and I rush to free Alex, I absentmindedly notice that his gun is still smoking. Mine is not.

"Why'd you have to shoot him, huh?" I ask heatedly. "I could have done it."

He looks at me and his eyes are expressionless.

"I'll call for a bus," he says.

I cradle Alex in my arms, smoothing her hair and planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "C'mon, Alex. C'mon, baby. Wake up. Open your eyes, Alex. Please. Please, open your eyes."

A soft hand interrupts my quiet begging. "Liv, the ambulance is here," Elliot says gently.

I pick Alex up and place her on the stretcher, getting in with her in one swift movement. I take her hand in mine and kiss it.

"Alex, sweetie, you really need to wake up. For me. I need you. I love you _so_ much, Alex. I need you to wake up. Can you do that for me? Please?"

Her slack body is my only answer.


	9. Chapter 9

_Olivia_

"Detective Benson, you need to let go of her so we can get her out."

"I'm not leaving her!" I yell at the ER doctor.

His eyes are weary. "I understand that. It's just for a moment."

I reluctantly let go of Alex's hand and follow the doctors into the ER, half-sprinting alongside Alex's stretcher. After that, I'm in a daze of tubes, monitors, and needles. All I can really focus on is Alex's closed eyes. In between the flurry of doctors, I am flitting between hyperventilating from worry and being furious at Alex. I'm so mad at her for getting kidnapped, so mad at her for not defending herself. I'm mad at Elliot for shooting Malcolm, I'm mad at Alex for not waking up. But mostly, I'm mad at myself for not saving her in time. I failed her. My worst fears have come to life – Alex was in danger and I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I stood there helplessly while Elliot shot the bastard. I just stood there.

"Liv, c'mon with me." Elliot is nudging me out of the room.

I stand my ground. "She's not waking up, Elliot. Why isn't she waking up?"

"She will, Liv. The good part is she's alive and stable, right? She'll wake up soon."

"She should have woken up by now," I reiterate.

"She will, Liv. Things can only get better, right? Malcolm's dead, and –"

Reminding me of my failure is not what I want to hear right now. "I'd like to be alone right now, Elliot," I say coldly.

He looks about as tired as I feel. I'm sure I look worse. "Liv, I don't think –"

I stop him. "You – you can't be here right now. You need to go."

He sighs as if I'm making the worst decision of my life. I turn my back to him, focusing once again on Alex. When I turn around again, he's gone.

/

_Alex_

" _Hey, Liv?"_

" _Hm?" she murmurs._

" _Don't die, okay?"_

_She shifts onto her side, positioning herself so she's facing me. "What do you mean?"_

" _Just…don't die. Be careful, I mean. On the job. I couldn't take it."_

_She intertwines her fingers with mine, kissing my knuckles. "Well, the same goes for you," she says._

" _I don't think I'm at as much of a risk as you are," I say with a small smile._

" _I don't know," she says with a smirk. "I've never been shot by a hired assassin."_

_The smile is gone from my lips. "Liv, I'm being serious here."_

" _So am I," she counters._

_I sigh. This is probably the best I'm going to get out of her._

" _Just as long as we understand each other._

/

_Olivia_

My head shoots up off the bed. I have a thin layer of crust forming around my lips. I haven't drooled since I was little. "She squeezed my hand," I say excitedly.

The nurse looks sorry. "That doesn't mean anything," she says softly. "Squeezing the hand is an action that doesn't take any thought. It's more of a reflex. I'm sorry."

"Oh," I clip, trying not to look too upset. "Okay."

I need to clear my mind. I get up and, cracking my back, start to pace the room. Sterile walls and cold, beeping machines circle in a whirlwind. Alex becomes a blur of blonde and white, the bandage on her head a striking contrast to her ruffled mass of hair.

Elliot knocks quietly on the door. "Liv, got something for you." He shakes a paper bag.

"I'm not hungry."

"It's not food," he sighs. "I brought you a change of clothes. You've been here for two days, Liv. You're starting to offend."

Beneath all my worry and fear, amusement surfaces with a tiny yet genuine smile. Alex's room has become my new home. I haven't left her side for a moment, not even to change. Every time a doctor comes in the room, I perk up with hope, and every time, I'm just as crushed as the last time he told me that nothing's changed and that I simply have to "wait and hope for the best." I've been doing so much hoping I'm sweating from the effort. But I can't stop trying. I can't stop waiting.

Elliot's smile matches mine. "There's the Olivia I know. Here." He offers me the bag.

I open it and look inside. "I thought you said it wasn't food," I say in mock irritation.

He shrugs his shoulders in a "what-can-I-say?" gesture. "Kathy's a mom through and through, I guess."

"Tell her I say thanks." I smile as I pull the soup out of the bag. "How are you guys doing?"

"We're getting better," he says hopefully. "All of…this has made us rethink a lot." He looks at me pointedly. "She misses you. The kids miss you. We haven't seen you in a while."

"I know," I say softly. "I'll be back. When all 'this' is over."

"Make sure you do, okay?" he says sincerely. With a squeeze of my shoulder, he slips out of the room, leaving me with the loudest silence I've ever heard.

/

_Alex_

" _Alex, you can't pressure me, okay? Just give me some time. I'll get there eventually."_

" _Oh, eventually. That's great. That's the same day pigs fly, right?"_

" _C'mon, Alex," Liv pleads. "I'm trying here."_

" _So am I, Olivia. I'm trying to understand why you're resisting so much. **Why** can't you just wear it? It's not like the guys or anyone else will scorn you or anything. I mean, God forbid they see you wearing a symbol of your one-year relationship. How would they react to that? 'Jeez, Liv. That necklace is so offensive. How could you possibly be **that** brazen?' I mean, c'mon, Liv. Those guys adore you. They just want to see you happy. I just don't get –"_

" _I don't want to hurt you!" she yells. "I mean, what if I make this commitment and something happens, you know, with us? Then it means less than before. Then it's tainted."_

_I walk toward her and clasp her hands in mine. I was so ready to be angry with her. I certainly hadn't intended for my heart to melt. "Liv, how long is it going to take for you to understand that I'm here for the long haul, huh? Whatever happens, happens. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm not going anywhere." I pull her in for a tender, reassuring kiss._

" _I love you so much," she says as she buries her face in my shoulder._

" _I love you too, sweetie. We're gonna be okay. There is nothing that will tear us apart, you hear that? Nothing."_


	10. Chapter 10

_Olivia_

"Hey, guys. What's up?"

Three blank, disbelieving pairs of eyes stare back at me as I sit down at my desk. Elliot is the first to speak.

"Liv, what are you doing here? What about Alex?" he asks.

"It's been a week and she hasn't woken up, Elliot. I can't put my life on hold just to watch her sleep," I say as if she means nothing to me.

He's not buying it. "Liv, you watch her sleep every night."

I look up at him, hoping he can't see the immense amount of pain in my eyes. "That's only when I know she'll wake up. When he starts to protest again, I cut him off. "Elliot, I haven't given up. I just can't take the waiting. Please. I just need something to distract me right now."

He nods slowly, passing me a case file as he fills me in on the details. His words, however, are nothing more than buzzing in my ears. As much as I thought work would help, it doesn't. Every case is a reminder that Alex is not here to prosecute it; Elliot's face is a reminder of my failure. I can't look at him anymore without being angry. I spend the entire day being distant, my face a poor mask for my rage.

I don't know what time it is when Elliot taps my shoulder, but the sun has gone down and I feel like I've been sleeping forever. I couldn't tell you the last thing I said or did.

"Liv, you…" Elliot starts.

I'm out the door before he has a chance to finish.

/

_Elliot_

I keep telling Olivia to go home, but honestly, I'm surprised she didn't come back to work earlier than this. When her mom died, she barely gave it a thought. Now Alex is lying in a hospital bed, perfectly fine, apart from the fact that she's unconscious, and I don't hear from Liv for a week. I don't know how she does it. I certainly couldn't.

Today, Liv is like a rookie again. She's making mistakes all over the place and yelling at everyone to compensate. Eventually, instead of trying to tell her to go home, Fin, Munch, and I ignore her. I've decided to stay a little later and undo all the "work" she did today.

About noon, she slips away while I'm at the john. When she comes back, she's got her sandwich from the deli. That's how I know she's mad at me; we haven't skipped lunch together in I don't know how long. I should never have shot Malcolm.

As the day passes, I am over solicitous, trying to get back on her good side. It doesn't work; I feel like a bigger tool than before.

She nods off around seven, sleeping with her chin in her hand, mouth slightly open. I smile and chuckle to myself before going back to work. I get immersed, and to be honest, forget about her for another hour.

At eight, I gently tap her on her shoulder. "Liv, you…"

She cuts me off by leaving the room.

"…don't have to do this alone," I finish somewhat lamely.

/

_Alex_

" _Michelle, you need to leave now. You can rest assured that I will be contacting your parents and informing them of this little incident."_

_As my mother unloads her anger on Michelle, I can do nothing except sit quietly in the corner and sob, repeating "please, Mother." At 15, I am the most wretched being on the face of the planet._

_Before Michelle leaves, she looks at me. It is a terrifying look – there is no anger, no pain, no…anything. It's as if she has written me out of her life forever. The finality of it is frightening._

_As soon as Connie shuts the door hesitantly, I jump up, eager to explain myself._

" _Mother, I –"_

_She turns to me and her eyes are hard and isolating. "I am very disappointed in you, Alexandra." Without another word, she turns on her heels and struts out._

_Were Connie not there, I would have hit the floor, and I would have hit it hard. Instead, I find myself bawling uncontrollably, enveloped tightly in her loving embrace. She rocks me gently, cooing soothing words softly in my ear. Eventually, my tears dry up and disappear. The pain, however, does not._

_For days, my mother and I do not speak, thought not for lack of trying. Every time I can, I try to explain myself, even apologizing when I don't feel sorry._

_School is no better. For the first few days, my friends are concerned about me. Then they get over it. They leave with words of malice, and I am left with the shards of almost every relationship I have lying in a broken pile at my feet._

_After a few weeks, my mother begins to covertly communicate with me. Every Sunday, a new, rich, charming, good-looking boy and his rich, charming, good-looking father eat dinner with us. Every Sunday, I stop talking at seven. Still, my mother persists._

" _I'm not going to change, Mother," I say wearily one day._

" _Yes, you will," she says. She says it so matter-of-factly that I finally explode, letting loose the barrage of repressed emotions I have bottled up._

" _No, I won't, Mother! I'm gay, and that's never going to change! No matter how many guys you try to force upon me, I'll never be interested in any of them. I like girls, okay? Please, I'm your only daughter. Can you accept me? Please? Just once, can you love me for who I am, not who you want me to be?"_

_When she doesn't say anything this time, I walk out. This time, I have no tears, only understanding._

/

_Olivia_

After I leave the precinct, I sit in my car for a while, thinking about where I want to go. I've only been home once in the last week, and the thought of sleeping in my own bed is tantalizing. In the end, however, I can't do it. Not without Alex.

I sigh as I start my car, and I sigh once again when I step through the doors of the hospital. The cold, linoleum floor may as well be mud for how slowly I am trudging down it.

"How's she doing today?" I ask Jenny, the nurse taking care of Alex.

"A little better than yesterday," she says with an understanding smile.

I look at her and raise my eyebrows questioningly, getting a shake of the head in response. This exchange has become our daily routine – in lieu of asking whether or not Alex has woken up, I motion, sparing myself the pain of having to form the words. As usual, Jenny responds with her favorite answer – no.

"She does seem better," Jenny says consolingly.

It is then that Alex decides to wake up.

/

_Alex_

" _Do you always watch me sleep?" I ask coyly._

_Olivia smirks. "Only when you don't snore."_

_I swat her playfully on the arm. "I do not snore!"_

" _Oh, yes you do," she laughs before rolling around in bed and "imitating" me. She sounds like a truck._

"How's she doing today?"

_I tickle a particularly soft spot under her ribs. "I do not sound like that! Take it back!"_

" _No!" She squeals and tries to get away from me, but I am Alex Cabot and I **never** back down. I tickle harder, and super-cop Olivia Benson buckles under my fingers._

" _Ack! Quit it!" she gasps._

"A little better than yesterday."

" _Not until you take it back!" Suddenly, she is on top of me and my arms are pinned above my head. She is so beautiful. She looks down at me so intently that I stop breathing._

" _Bad move wrestling with a cop," she says huskily._

" _Oh yeah?" I rasp back. "Why's that?"_

" _Because." Her lips are on my ear, and I let out an involuntary gasp when she nibbles on my earlobe. "We always win."_

"She does seem better."

With a snap, my eyes are open. I hear a gasp and I see two beautiful chocolate-brown eyes staring at me.

"Jesus. Alex. Oh my god, Alex. Sweetie, thank God you're awake. Oh, God. Baby, I missed you so much." Soft hands smooth back my hair.

"I'm sorry," I croak. My voice is hoarse, like it's been out of practice for a while. "Who are you?"


	11. Chapter 11

_Olivia_

To say I'm shocked would be a gross understatement. At Alex's words, I feel myself get clammy. My throat closes up.

"What do you mean, who am I? Al, you know me." I laugh, hoping she'll follow.

She doesn't. Instead, she shakes her head slowly. "No, I don't. I'm sorry."

I grasp her hand and she immediately tugs it back. "Alex, c'mon. It's me; it's Liv." My voice is so small and hoarse, pleading. I've never felt so alone in my life.

A though strikes me. "Do you know who you are?" I ask carefully, my words measured.

"Alex," she says after a moment.

"Okay. What's your last name, Alex?"

She opens and closes her mouth like a guppy, tears filling her eyes as she falters. "I don't know," she finally says.

The doctor walks by the room, and I practically trip over myself trying to flag her down.

"I see Alex is finally awake," she says with a smile.

"She doesn't remember anything, Dr. Lynch. Not who she is, not who I am. She doesn't remember who I am; how could she forget?" I run my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of all this mess.

She puts a hand on my arm to stop my rambling. "Olivia, it's very common for people who suffer head trauma to experience amnesia."

"Okay. So what do I do about it?"

"Surround her with familiar things. Live life like you normally would, be predictable. Routine is key," she explains.

"How long before she gets better?"

Her eyes soften. "It's never really exact," she says quietly.

I glance back at Alex. Her eyes are wild and frantic, darting around as if something in the hospital room might trigger her memory. It breaks my heart. "Can I take her home soon?" I ask.

"We'll probably keep her here until tomorrow, just to make sure she really is awake for good. Other than that, she should be good to go," Dr. Lynch says encouragingly.

I am elated at the prospect of having Alex home, but not as much as I would be if she knew what her home was, what it meant to both of us. What it still means to me.

"Same time tomorrow, okay?" I walk away with a backward wave to Dr. Lynch. I am glad to leave the sterile environment of the hospital, though my home is not much better.

/

_Alex_

Liv is gone, and I know nothing more about myself than I did when she was here. I don't know why, but just the sight of her makes me feel completely at ease. I didn't want her to leave, but I don't know how to get her back. I would say I've never felt so alone in my life, but to be honest, I don't remember.

The doctor comes and sits on a stool near my bed. She looks nice, not strict and stuffy, like most doctors. "Hi, Alex," she says. Her voice is like silk. "I'm Dr. Lynch."

I clear my throat, not really knowing what to say. "What happened?" I finally manage.

"You suffered some head trauma. You had us scared for a while there."

"How long was I out?"

She hesitates. "A week."

A week. I can't believe it. I get a bump on my head, and it knocks me out for a week and completely obliterates my memory. I don't understand how I can know that Dr. Lynch is a doctor, how I know I have an I.V. in my arm, how I know that the room is white, my hair is blond, but I don't know who I am.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

"Well," she says gently, "you hurt your brain a little. It's not uncommon for there to be some memory loss with head injuries. It's usually temporary."

I wince. "Usually?"

She smiles reassuringly. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. It may take a while, but I'm confident that you'll get your memory back."

"When can I go home?" A thought strikes me. "Do I even have a home?"

Her smile widens. "You do. Liv is going to take you home tomorrow." She gets up to leave and I grab her wrist.

"Do you know anything about me?" I'm desperate to know, to remember. I can't stand not knowing. It's like my life doesn't even exist.

"I'm gonna let Liv tell you about that," she says after a moment. "I'll check on you later," she says, gently pulling her hand out of my grasp.

When she leaves, I am left alone, again. I feel as helpless as a little child – I can't function by myself. I can't even _be_ myself. My memory can't come back soon enough.

/

_Kathy Stabler_

Pounding on the door late at night pulls me out of Elliot's warm, reassuring arms. I throw on a robe and plod to the door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes along the way.

Her face doesn't register at first. "Olivia?" I ask in surprise. "You…you look like shit," I say truthfully.

She gives me an admonishing look. "Can I talk to Elliot?"

"It's two in the morning," I say, puzzled.

She hesitates. I know she's reluctant to say anything because it's me. We haven't had the best relationship; I'll admit that I thought she was trying to take Elliot away from me, even though I knew she was gay. I've always known. A woman always knows. But she's so goddamned beautiful that it worried me. I got jealous. Ever since she found Alex though, I've tried to let her in a little more. It's been a slow-going process.

"It's about Alex," she finally says.

"Oh," I say, not knowing what else to add.

"She's awake." Olivia amends her statement.

My eyes widen in surprise and sincere happiness. "Liv! That's great!" I pull her into a quick hug that neither of us was expecting. "When is she coming home?"

"Probably tomorrow," she says grimly.

"That's great, Liv! That's really great! Why don't you think that's great? What's wrong?" My mind is racing with every worst-case scenario – brain damage, paralysis….

"She doesn't remember anything," Liv says quietly, reluctantly, almost as if by saying it she's making it real.

My heart breaks. "Oh, Liv…" I suddenly realize she's still standing on the doorstep, and I move aside to let her in. "Come on. I'll make you some tea."

With a "thanks", she sits down on the couch as I boil a pot of water.

"I don't need any tea," she says politely.

Her courtesy can't quash my motherly instinct. "How 'bout some hot cocoa?" I offer.

Finally, a smile. "Can't say no to that."

We make small talk – very, very small talk – as we wait for the water to boil. When it's ready, I pour her a mug and add some milk. "Do you want anything else with your cocoa?" Making hot cocoa brings up memories. "Orange juice?"

Olivia scrunches her nose. "Orange juice?" she echoes skeptically.

I shrug. "It's popular with the kids. Maureen used to say it tasted like a Tootsie Roll." I shake my head. "Never mind," I say, patting her knee. "Tell me about Alex."

She takes a deep breath, and I can tell she's still hesitant around me. I decide to set her straight. "Look, Liv, I know we haven't been the best of friends these past couple of years. It's mostly been my fault because I've been jealous of you. But I want it to get better. I'm here now, Elliot's not, and between you and me, he needs his sleep. I know you're hurting. Please, talk to me."

"I just don't know what to do," she admits.

"She doesn't remember anything?" I pry.

She shakes her head and clears her throat. "Nothing. Not who she is, not who I am. I just don't know what to do," she repeats.

"What did the doctor say?"

"That she'd get better with time if I help her remember. You know, do the things we always do."

"Well, that sounds manageable."

She takes a sip of her cocoa. "Yeah, I guess it does. But how am I supposed to kiss her, how am I supposed to hold her when she doesn't now what it means or even how she's supposed to feel about it?"

"But _you_ know what it means, Liv. Would you rather have her here, even without any memory, or be burying her in a couple of days?"

"I don't know," she says softly.

"Yes, you do," I admonish gently. "Any Alex is better than no Alex. I'd feel that way if it was Elliot."

An awkward but not stifling silence ensues. We both clear our throats, wondering what to say next. For the life of me, I can't think of anything. Eventually, Olivia gets up. I follow suit, walking her to the door. She's halfway out when she turns back to me.

"Kathy –"

I cut her off. "I know. Go."

She walks away with a slight nod and eyes that look more liquid than normal. I sigh and make my way back to bed, slipping under the covers as stealthily as I can.

"Whozzat?" Elliot sleepily slurs.

I kiss his forehead. "No one."


	12. Chapter 12

_Alex_

"So…what do you do?"

Liv looks like she's got a horrible stomach ache, a look that I imagine has become a normal one for her, at least recently. "I'm a cop," she says softly.

I nod uncomfortably and look around the apartment. It looks lived in, happy. I can almost envision myself doing the dishes, eating Chinese food, reading a book on the couch while listening to Mozart. The blanket on the sofa is incredibly inviting, and I want nothing more than to snuggle in it. But hiding, sleeping my life away…no, I can't handle that.

"Can I use the bathroom?" I ask, my arms crossed protectively over my chest.

Tears spring to Liv's eyes. "Alex, you live here, too. You don't have to ask."

"Right. I'll, uh, be right back." I walk down the hall and quietly close the door to the bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I look at myself in the mirror, scrutinizing my features for anything I could recognize. What had I seen, what had I smelled, what had I heard? And why couldn't I remember?

I walk out of the bathroom, but I'm not ready to go back to Olivia. I'm also not ready for what's on the other side of the door I push open. The bedroom is littered with pictures of Liv and I. Hugging in Central Park, laughing with a few other men, looking ridiculous feeding each other pizza. And the letter, the letter breaks my heart. I can't fathom what happened for me to be in a state like that almost as much as I can't fathom not remembering it.

"It'll come back, you know." Liv's voice jolts me out of my reverie. "Your memory," she clarifies.

"I certainly hope so," I whisper. I turn when she puts her hand on my shoulder. "Listen, I'm kinda tired…"

"Say no more," she interrupts. "You can take the bed."

"No," I protest. "No, I really can't be in here with…" I wave my hand around, not knowing what to call the evidence of my memories.

"Okay," Liv says resignedly. "The couch pulls out. C'mon, I'll set up a bed for you."

I follow her out of the room, feeling more than a little useless. I stand back and watch as she puts sheets on the couch, admiring that even in such sorrow she seems graceful. It isn't lost on me that whatever past Liv and I had was clearly romantic. It's odd – it feels so natural to notice her like that, but it's unfamiliar at the same time. I'm noticing her not as someone I've always loved but rather as someone I'm attracted to who I just met, and I know that's not right.

I stop looking at her when the bed is ready. I mumble my thanks and plop down into my makeshift bed. I don't look at her when she leaves the room, but her face is the last thing I see before I finally fall asleep.

/

_Elliot_

"Coffee for lunch, El? That's pathetic. Here." Olivia throws down my usual sandwich. It lands with a plop on my desk and a bit of mustard squirts out.

I look up in confusion. "What…? I mean, thanks, I guess…"

Olivia sits down across from me. "Stop stammering, Elliot, and eat your damn sandwich. I was an ass, okay?"

A reluctant smile spreads across my face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Olivia gives me an admonishing look. "You know what I said. Don't make me cram that sandwich down your throat."

My smile is as wide as it's ever been. "That's my girl." I look at Olivia a bit more before taking a large bite of my sandwich. "So," I say while doing my best impression of a cow, "how's Alex doing?"

"Oh, she's great," Olivia says sardonically. "Doesn't remember a thing, but she's great."

I actually start choking, and a few moments pass before I have use of my mouth again. "You mean she's awake?!" Olivia nods. "But she doesn't remember anything." Liv shakes her head. "Nothing? Not even you?" Another slow shake, this one decidedly more somber. "Jeez, Liv. That's…that's…jeez, Liv."

"Yeah, I know," she says softly. "But the doc said to do things like we normally would, so I'm trying hard."

"That's good. And you know," I stop chewing and actually swallow before speaking, "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Olivia puts down her sandwich and smiles back. "Yeah, I know." Suddenly, she brushes the crumbs off her hands and gets up. "Come on, let's take a walk."

I look at her, puzzled. "But…Cragen…?"

She looks at me like I'm crazy. "Right, because Cragen's gonna tell me to take _less_ time off work right now. C'mon," she motions with a quick jerk of her head. "It'll be quick."

"Okay." I finish the sandwich in one last, monstrous bite and follow her out the door. I'm hit with a blast of fresh air, and it always surprises me to realize that there's a world outside the precinct. I guess that's why my relationship with Kathy has pretty much always been on the rocks. She lives in the normal world with everyone else, and I live in a world full of pedophiles and predators with Olivia.

"So, no one else knows about Alex except Cragen and Kathy…" Olivia says as she kicks a rock, her head down.

"I won't tell them," I respond. "Wait, how does Kathy know?"

"She didn't tell you?" I shake my head. "I pounded on your door a couple nights ago at two in the morning. I was looking for you, but I got her." Olivia smiles bashfully. "Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else."

"Liv, I just said I wouldn't. Don't worry."

"Thanks."

We keep walking in silence for a minute or two. I can sense that she has more to say but doesn't exactly know how to phrase it. That's okay; I'm perfectly happy to be away from the precinct. It's nice to get away from the grit of work every once in a while.

"Hey, El?" Olivia turns to me and I have never seen her look more devastated. "Why'd you have to shoot Malcolm, huh?"

This is it. This is the reason we're taking a walk, and to be honest, I'm not surprised. I don't regret shooting Malcolm, because I can't imagine what Olivia would be without Alex, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought twice about doing it. Of course I have. I imagine Olivia feels exactly how I would if she shot someone when Kathy was in that position. I'd be furious with her because I wanted to be the one to do it, I wanted to be the one to bring justice.

I stop and look at her intently. "It was a reflex, Liv. I saw Alex in the chair, and I saw Malcolm hit her, and I just shot him."

"You could have let me do it," she says softly, tears welling in her eyes. "You _should_ have let me do it."

"Liv, if I had waited any longer, there's no telling what he would have done to Alex."

"I know. But he was mine. I was supposed to get him."

"He's dead, Liv. I think you did get him."

"No, I didn't, Elliot," she says, anger replacing her tears, " _you_ did. I couldn't put him away, and I couldn't even shoot him."

I take a deep breath and expel it slowly. "Liv, I'm not gonna say I'm sorry for shooting him because I'm not. The world is clearly a better place without him in it. But I know how you feel, I really do. It's just that right then, there was only one thought in my mind: this guy is a threat to Alex and I have to end him. That's it. That's why I shot him."

"Okay." She turns around and starts walking back to the precinct.

I catch up with her and we walk in silence for a while. "You ever gonna forget this?" I finally ask.

"No," she says simply.

"How 'bout forgive?"

She turns her head and looks at me with a half-smile on her face. "Maybe."


	13. Chapter 13

_Olivia_

A knock at the door, three harsh raps, wakes me from my fitful sleep. I roll out of bed, half falling as I glance at the clock. Seven o'clock in the morning. A Sunday morning to be precise, a fact that brings a serious scowl to my face.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming." I shake the sleep out of my eyes, or try to, as I plod heavily to the door. Alex's sleeping form brings a smile, however slight, to my face.

There are three more raps, and they sound more urgent than the last three. I huff in annoyance and fling open the door.

"What?" I blurt sharply. My tone immediately turns to one of surprise. "You look like Alex," I say to the woman standing in my doorway.

"And with good reason," she replies harshly. "My name is Elizabeth Cabot. I am Alexandra's mother." She barges into my apartment without invitation, blowing right past me.

I close the door after her. "Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here? How did you even get my address?"

"I simply called the hospital and inquired as to where Alexandra was." Her voice is strict. I don't know this woman, and I may have a preconceived notion of her harsh demeanor, but so far, she is doing nothing to contradict my beliefs.

"You still haven't told me why you're here."

"I have come to bring Alexandra home," she says bluntly.

Icy dread courses through my veins. "Alex is home. _This_ is her home."

"No," she says. "It is not. Alexandra belongs with me."

"Well what are you going to do, sling her over your shoulder? She's still asleep."

Ms. Cabot sits stiffly on a loveseat. "I will wait."

/

_Alex_

Something is not right when I wake up. It's not something I can hear, but I can sense it. I keep my eyes closed because I can feel another set of eyes on me, and I want to see if I can get anything else from them, but I can't. All I know is that something is not right and I want to stay asleep as long as I can. I almost wish I hadn't woken up.

Two sets of eyes are now looking at me. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I am hostile and I don't even know why. I decide that maybe I should find out before I make any rash decisions.

The first face that I see when I open my eyes is Olivia's, and I can't contain the smile that creeps slowly onto my face, widening until it is a full-blown grin. For some reason, she doesn't smile back.

There is a quiet, impatient cough, and my eyes flit to the other woman in the room.

"Mother?" I blurt.

Olivia's head snaps toward me and her eyes practically pop out of her skull. I have never seen someone look so dejected and surprised at the same time. "You recognize her?" she almost screams at me.

"What? No. But she looks like me. I just assumed," I explain.

"Alexandra, what do you mean you don't recognize me? How could you forget your own mother?"

I study my mother intently, because even by looking at her, I know she is everything I never wanted to be. She is stiff and cold and completely unhappy. I can't imagine that a more lifeless person ever walked this planet.

"Perhaps you should get all the facts before barging into someone's house, Ms. Cabot," Olivia hisses. "Alex was attacked by a murderer and she lost her memory. She can't recall a thing."

My mother looks surprised for only a second. It strikes me as odd to see her surprised; it seems such a foreign emotion for her features to form.

"Well, that can be remedied. I'll just take Alexandra home with me. It isn't as if she had anything worth remembering with you."

Olivia moves quickly and places herself between my mother and the door. "I don't believe you have the right or the knowledge to make that assessment," she says coldly.

My mother grabs my arm and pulls me toward her. "And I don't believe you had any right to remove my daughter from the hospital without my consent. I _am_ her next of kin, you know. You should be lucky I'm not pressing charges."

Olivia's eyes flatten to a glare, and I can feel the intensity of her disgust. "Oh, really? So tell me, as Alex's next of kin, where were you when she was in a coma for a week? Were you at her bedside day and night? No, that was me. Where were you when she was having a rough time last year? Were you there for her, coaxing her through it? No, that was me. Where the hell were you when she needed you, huh? Were you there rubbing her back, or giving her support, or there to lend an ear? No. No, you weren't. That was me. So I don't think you can really define 'kin' as purely biological and expect it to mean anything."

My mother's left eyebrow twitches upward and I can tell she is impressed against her will. Still, she is determined not to show it. "Be that as it may, Alexandra is my daughter and she is coming with me. Now, step aside."

"No," Olivia growls. I have never seen anyone look more dangerous.

"I don't think you want me to call the authorities, Ms. Benson."

Olivia's eyes narrow to slits. "For the record, Ms. Cabot, it's 'Detective Benson,' and I _am_ the authorities. I think you should leave right now."

"Fine." Mother grips my arm tighter and tries to drag me out the door.

"Without Alex," Olivia amends.

That is the last straw for my mother. Her lips tighten and purse and her voice is shaking from restraint. "Now, look here –"

She barely gets a word out before Olivia starts to talk. "No, _you_ look here –"

This situation is quickly spinning out of control. I pry myself from my mother's grasp and try to calm each of them down. "Wait, wait. Just stop talking for a second." Neither one stops. In fact, they seem to shout even more. I can't even make out what they're saying anymore. "Look, just listen to me, will you?"

Nobody listens, and I lose it. "Just shut up already!"

Both women turn to me in shock. I address my mother first. "You need to calm down and listen. Just…just stay put for a second, okay?"

I turn quickly to Olivia so my mother doesn't have time to reprimand me. I take both of Liv's hands in mine. "I know how much you care, and I don't ever want you to think that I don't appreciate that. But maybe some time away would do me good, you know? It might be nice to just be away from all of this. It can be a little overwhelming."

Olivia's eyes quickly pool with tears. "Alex, you don't need to go with your mother. Go stay with Elliot, or Munch, or Cragen. But please, please don't go."

"Olivia, I don't even know who those people are. Or at least I don't remember. Who knows, maybe I'll find a baby picture that will bring back my memory." I smile feebly. "It's not like we'll never see each other again, right?"

Her devastated eyes are telling me that's exactly what she fears. My mother whisks me away without another word, and the door slams loudly behind me. I want nothing more than to collapse on the floor and dissolve into tears, but the cold hand on my wrist is tugging me away from the only place I ever wanted to call home.


	14. Chapter 14

_Elizabeth Cabot_

"Stop slouching, Alexandra. Sit up straight like a lady."

She only huffs in response. "Why do you always need me to be a lady?"

"I see that even though your memory is gone, your insolence is not."

"Whatever you say, Mother."

I expel an irritated line of air through my nose. "Alexandra, there is no need to –"

"I imagine 'need' is a very large part of your vocabulary, Mother. You _need_ other people to do things for you. Sadly, there is nothing, in your eyes, that _you_ need to do, and in that, you are sorely mistaken. What I need you to do is stop ordering me around. I'm sure I've said this before – taking away my memory doesn't take away my mind – but you need to just let me be me. Jesus, Mother! Stop trying to control me. Let me live."

"We're here," I say shortly. "Connie will grab your bags." I usher her out of the car. She doesn't even look at me as we go inside.

/

_Alex_

The house that we pull up to is not a house. It is a castle, a fortress housing the world's biggest ice queen. Still, when we walk inside, I can't be but be impressed. It _is_ beautifully decorated, but it is also stagnant. The unfeeling marble matches my mother perfectly.

"Welcome home, Alexandra," my mother says.

"A house is not a home unless someone lives in it, Mother."

"I believe I do live here."

"That's debatable," I say as I plop down on the couch. My back protests the firm cushions; clearly this couch is here for show rather than comfort.

My mother looks at me for a long moment. "I'll have Connie show you to your room," she says, gesturing to the maid behind her.

Connie seems to have materialized out of nowhere; I hadn't noticed her before. She is a petite woman with hair slowly going grey. All 5'9 of me towers over her tiny frame, and yet I feel inferior to her. She exudes the perfect balance of warmth and power. I like her already.

She bends down to pick up my bags, but I put a hand over hers to stop her. "I'm quite capable of carrying my stuff," I say as warmly as I can without sounding too patronizing.

She smiles widely. "You certainly haven't changed a bit." She gestures for me to follow her upstairs and I do, glad to get away from my mother.

"Are you glad to be home?" she asks as we walk.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully.

"Well, that about fits with your childhood," she quips sardonically.

"I guess," I laugh weakly. Less than five minutes here and I'm already uncomfortable. I try as hard as I can to remember; my eyes are closed tightly and I'm almost sweating. The only result is an amalgamation of random red flashes and the sound of a woman's laughter.

"Are you alright?" Connie asks. I see that we've reached my bedroom. I imagine we've been standing here a while and that she's been staring at me just as long.

"Well," I sigh, "no. Why don't you sit and I'll explain." She sits cautiously on a chair and I take a moment to figure out how to phrase my thoughts. I decide to be blunt.

"About a week ago, I was knocked unconscious by a…some sort of criminal, I think. I don't really remember how Liv explained it. Anyway, I lost all my memory."

Connie's eyes are wide as she takes in my words. "Nothing? You don't remember anything?" she asks softly.

I shake my head regretfully. "Sorry."

"Boy, you've had some bad luck the past few years, huh? First Witness Protection, now this…"

She would have continued had the urge to interrupt not enveloped my brain. "I'm sorry, what?" The idea that my life is foreign to me is something I still haven't gotten used to.

Connie looks at me warily. "You might want Liv to explain that one, too." She gives me a quizzical look. "Why aren't you living with her, anyway?"

"Mother dragged me from there just a short while ago. Nothing like a tragedy to bring out your maternal instinct, I guess."

Connie squeezes my hand comfortingly. "You won't be here forever. Liv will come get you; that girl loves you to death."

"Really? I thought that was me."

Connie gives me an admonishing look. "Not yet, at least. Come on." She pats my head. "I'll make you dinner."

Walking down the stairs, the first thing I hear is my mother's voice. It is loud and jarring – clearly she's not happy.

"Well," Connie whispers conspiratorially, "you know what I always say: if she's not yelling at someone…."

"She's yelling at someone else," I finish.

Connie looks at me as if I have a third eye. "How did you know I was going to say that? I mean, I always say that, but how did you know?"

My mind goes blank. "I…I don't know. Truly." I'm speechless with the implications.

Connie gives me an encouraging, if a little wary, look. "Well, maybe your memory isn't as lost as you think."

Following her to the kitchen is the only thing I can do right now; my mind is empty of all thoughts but one: What would Liv think of this?

/

_Elliot_

Twenty minutes at the door with no response means I'm pulling out my secret weapon – an extra key to Liv's apartment. She doesn't like when I use it – something about an invasion of privacy, even though she's the one who gave it to me – but as she hasn't taken it away yet, I only use it when I really need to. And I really need to use it right now.

The first thing I notice when I walk in is the lack of people. No Liv – which doesn't surprise me – but also no Alex – which does. Where is she supposed to go?

A few minutes of rooting around lands me with a hastily scribbled note and a bottle of beer. I feel like alcohol might go really nicely with the mood of the night.

_Elliot,_

_First of all, stop using that damn key. Next time I see you, I'm taking it back. Anyway, Alex's mom stormed in here like she was frickin' Attila the Hun and now they're both gone and my life is over._

_P.S. Not really, but it does suck. Come find me._

_Liv_

I sigh and take a last swig of my beer as I head out the door. I wish I didn't know where she is, but I honestly couldn't live with myself if I didn't.

Sometimes I wonder why _I'm_ the one fixing people's love lives.


	15. Chapter 15

_Olivia_

" _What's so funny?" Alex asks, feigning hurt._

" _I'm sorry," I say between gasps. "You have a little dot of coleslaw on your nose. How…how did you manage to get it on your nose?" I clutch my stomach and try to stop laughing; Alex doesn't seem too amused._

_She looks at me calculatingly for a moment before smearing yogurt on my cheek._

_Alex has a hard time reining in her laughter. "You seem to have some yogurt on **your** face." She barely gets out the last word before she erupts in gut-busting laughter. A while ago, I would never have imagined her to be this full of joy. A smile, a genuine smile, would have seemed like the most alien emotion for her features to form. Now, a day doesn't go by where I don't see her joy painted clearly on her beautiful face, dancing lightly in her eyes. She has never looked as beautiful to me as she does when she smiles._

_The wind begins to harden the coleslaw on Alex's nose, so I think it's time to get it off. I could wipe it off with a napkin, but where's the fun in that?_

" _C'mere. Let me get that off for you." I grab a napkin and fake like I'm going to wipe it off, but once I get close enough, I pick her up and run. She struggles in my arms, laughing and protesting half-heartedly. I wade into the water and heave her in the ocean. She comes up blubbering, drenched and as acclimated to the water as a cat. Spitting water forcefully from her lips, she splashes as she gets nearer._

" _Your turn," she says with a devious grin. Suddenly I am forced under the water, my skin protesting the sudden change in temperature. What Alex doesn't know is that I was on the swim team in high school. This is my turf, so to speak. I untangle myself from her grasp and feel around for her legs. Finding them, I grab hold and pull down hard. I wait until I surface before I start laughing._

_Once again, she comes up sputtering. "Cheater," she accuses._

_I can't contain my smile. "That's for beating me in Scrabble," I tease._

" _You should know better than to try and out-Scrabble an English major."_

" _Well, you should know better than to try and out swim a swimmer," I retort. I splash a little water her way. "Come on. Let's go sit."_

_She grabs my hand as we walk back to our towels. The warm, Florida sun feels nice against my back._

_Alex bumps me lightly on my shoulder. "I never knew you were a swimmer."_

" _There are a lot of things you don't know about me. I am an ocean of mysteries," I say dramatically._

" _Good thing you're not as cold as that ocean," she says as we sit down._

" _Oh, don't be such a baby."_

_She throws a chip at me in response. I give her a look. "Don't make me throw you in again," I kid._

"Liv?"

I turn towards Elliot. "Hey," I say weakly.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks softly.

"Thinking."

"About Alex?"

I nod.

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"Liv, you're not fine," he quietly protests. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really, Elliot," I sigh wearily. "But I probably should." That admission shows me just how much of an influence Alex has had on me. A year ago, I never would have offered up anything about myself.

"Okay. What happened?"

"Alex's mom showed up and just took her. She was there and then she was just gone, El. And the worst part is that she went willingly. She didn't even try to stay."

"Liv, you should give her more credit than that. She may not remember much, but she's still Alex deep down, and she will come back to you. Besides, she's probably really confused about everything. I mean, how would you feel in her place?"

"I know. I know I should be rational about this whole thing. My head is telling me all of that. But my heart hurts, Elliot. I just don't understand."

Fortunately, Elliot doesn't press the matter. He sits down next to me on the bed; the springs inside emit a plaintive squeak. The space between us is thick with silence, but I don't notice it. I notice my trembling fingers, my pounding heart, my burning eyes. I can feel Elliot's shirt brushing lightly against my shoulder; it tickles me every time he breathes.

"C'mon, Liv. Why don't you come home with me?" Elliot gently places his hands under my arms and tries to lift me up. He gets me up, but I make no attempt to stand on my own.

He sighs heavily. "Liv, you can't stay at the crib forever. Come on." He lets go of me and steps back, arms still protectively outstretched in case I happen to fall. When I don't, he bends down and picks up my jacket before handing it to me. I don't even pretend like I care enough to put it on.

"At least hold out your arms so it's a little bit easier," he practically pleads. I comply, and he puts my jacket on. I don't help.

"Come on, Liv. Let's go." He motions with a hand for me to follow. When I don't, he grabs me and propels me forward. I only walk because I would fall flat on my face if I didn't.

If you asked me how long it took to get to Elliot's place, I couldn't tell you. I couldn't tell you if it was night or day. I couldn't tell you if he said anything to me. I could tell you that my skin was clammy, that the window was cold as I rested my forehead against it. I could tell you that my lips were chapped and every raspy breath I took made my mouth drier.

The only reason Kathy Stabler's face registers in my mind is that I think she's Alex because all I see is blond hair. I could say that I feel disappointment when I realize she's not, but that would probably be a lie; I can't tell one feeling from another anymore. Despair is quickly giving way to numbness.

/

_Kathy_

I don't ask why Elliot is standing at the door with Olivia. She looks like she's in a coma.

"Hey, Liv," I say soothingly. "How are you?" She doesn't even seem to hear me.

I turn to Elliot instead. "How's she doing?" I ask.

"I don't even know, Kath. She's not even there."

I let them walk past me. "I'll get the couch set up." While I lay down sheets and pillows, I go through a list of tragedies that could make Liv act this way. The first one is that Alex has somehow died, but I don't consider that possibility for a moment. I'm sure she'd be crying if that were the case.

Elliot comes up behind me and rubs my shoulders. "Hey."

I look around. "Where's Liv?" I ask in confusion.

"I put her in the bathroom, told her to splash a little water on her face. She looks like shit."

"Do you think she'll be okay by herself?"

He nods sullenly. "Relatively speaking, yeah. She's probably just sitting on the toilet, not doing anything."

"What happened, Elliot? I've never seen her like this."

He sighs. "I don't know the full story yet, but from what I understand, Alex's mom showed up to Liv's apartment and left with Alex in tow."

I match his heavy exhalation. "Wow."

"Yeah." He wipes his hands over his face. "Anyway, I hope you don't mind that I brought her here. I just don't think she should be at home right now."

I walk behind him and wrap my hands around his waist, stretching to put my chin on his shoulder. "Of course I don't mind," I say as I kiss his back. "Come on. Let's go to bed. I bet we could both use a lot of sleep right now."

"I'll go get Liv," he says tiredly.

"No, no," I say. "You go sleep. You're tired. I'll get Liv." I push him toward the bedroom as I head to the bathroom.

I cautiously knock on the door. "Liv? Can I come in?" I don't get a response, so I gently push open the door. Just as Elliot predicted, she is sitting on the toilet with her hands clasped and resting on her knees. She is staring at the wall, but somehow I doubt that she actually sees it.

I grasp her hand and pull her gently upwards. "Come on, Liv. You need to get some sleep."

She follows me woodenly to the couch. I think about asking her if she needs anything to sleep in, but I don't think it really matters to her. I gently peel off her jacket and push her softly on the couch. After covering her with a blanket, I start to walk to the bedroom. I can't help glancing back one more time, and what I see breaks my heart. She is lying still as stone, and she has pulled the blanket up over her face, making her look like nothing more than a dead body.

I slip into the bedroom and softly shake Elliot, just in case he'd been sleeping. "El? Elliot?"

"Hm?" he murmurs.

"I'm gonna keep a watch on Liv tonight, okay? You get some sleep." I kiss his forehead and grab a pillow.

"Mmkay," he says absentmindedly.

I walk back to the living room and pull the sheet from Olivia's face. She hasn't even closed her eyes. Had I not seen her chest rise and fall with breath, I would be tempted to shake her, just to make sure she was alive.

I pat her hand. "Liv, I'm gonna stay in here tonight. I'll be right there on the chair if you need me, okay?" I move to the loveseat to set up my makeshift bed, but suddenly, Olivia squeezes my hand tightly. I try to wriggle out of her grasp, but it's useless.

"Okay. I'll stay right here; it's okay." Her grip loosens slightly when I sit down on the floor. I position my pillow as comfortably as I can and lean my head back, closing my eyes. As I try to sleep, I wonder in amazement how the trials of one person can disrupt the lives of so many others and hope against hope that things get better soon.


	16. Chapter 16

_Alex_

Waking up is like being jolted out of a really good dream. In fact, I'm not entirely sure that I wasn't having a really good dream. Blurred images of a smile, a beach, and for some reason, a Scrabble tile linger on my mind like a high school classmate whose name I've forgotten after so many years. I like in bed for a while trying to catch my thoughts, but their fragile, smoke-like bodies evade my grasp. And yet, I don't get up. Getting up would require me to surrender my attempts to remember. Getting up would entail admitting defeat.

A soft knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. "You awake?" Connie whispers.

"Yes," I sigh. "But I wouldn't like to be."

Connie huffs in agreement. "Your mother would like a word with you."

"Okay," I say as I push myself out of bed. "I'll be dressed in about ten minutes."

Connie slips out of the room as I start to get ready. I would love to take my time and stall as much as I can, but I want to treat this conversation as I would treat a Band-Aid: rip it off as quickly as possible.

Five minutes later, I find myself sitting awkwardly across from my mother. She is sitting on the couch as if it's made of iron spikes – any stiffer and she'd be standing up. By contrast, I am slumped into the loveseat like a carefree teenager, only for the reason that I know it irks her. Right now, the only satisfaction I can get is from pissing my mother off.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I called you down here, Alexandra?" My mother interrupts my silent rebellion.

"I'm sure you're about to tell me, so I don't think so."

My mother's face is as cryptic and unwavering as a stone. Even if I could tell what she was feeling, I don't think I'd want to; her thoughts might destroy me with their forlornness. _Although,_ I think sadly, _mine aren't that much better at the moment._

"Well, seeing as neither of us wants to be here, why don't I get right down to the point?" I nod ever so slightly at my mother's suggestion. "I know this can't be easy for you, Alexandra, and I want to help," my mother says hesitantly. The word 'help' rolls haltingly off her tongue, as if it's the first time she's ever used the word.

I can't help but be surprised, and more than a little angry. "You drag me away from Olivia, and now you want to _help_ me? I fail to see the logic in that."

"The only way to help you was to get you away from that woman, Alexandra," my mother says, her voice tired and exasperated. "You can't possibly hope to get any better with her around. You need a neutral environment."

"What I need, Mother, is some support. Somehow, I doubt that you'll be the best one to turn to for that."

For a second, my mother looks genuinely hurt. But only for a second. Then she comes to her senses and arranges her expression into a decidedly more sterile one. "Alexandra, I've tried my hardest with you. I just don't understand why you feel the need to be so insolent."

"I'm sure that you don't, Mother. I'm also sure that you don't understand how much of my insolence is your fault. You're too vain to ever think that you could be culpable for any part of me."

Mother interrupts me. "On the contrary, Alexandra – I think I can take full responsibility for your ambition." She smirks at me. "I'd like to see you negate that."

Never have I wished that I had my memory back more. I am seething inside, but I know that to show it would be a terrible mistake. I look into my mother's eyes and try to find some semblance of emotion. I'd like to think that it's there, but if it is, she hides it well. I feel detached from my mother, angry with her, but mostly I feel sorry for her. I can't imagine how she functions every day; she has no one to talk to, no one to laugh with (though I imagine she hasn't laughed in a while anyway), no one to fall back on. A part of me realizes that the only interaction she can get from other people is confrontational. It's really sad to think about.

I push off my knees and get up from my seat. The angry part of me would love to exit the room, storming off, maybe getting in one more scathing insult. What comes out is something that neither of us expected.

I walk past my mother and place a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes, Mother, I think you must be the loneliest person on the planet."

I glide past her and up the stairs. She hasn't moved an inch, but her shoulders seem to have sagged. And yet, I can't find it in me to go back and comfort her. What kind of daughter am I?

"You okay?" Connie asks.

I smile bravely. "I will be when this whole thing is over. What's in that box?" I point to the package that keeps slipping from Connie's hands.

"Follow me and I'll show you." She hefts it up with a grunt and I follow her back into my room. The box lands on my bed with a loud thump; the springs in the mattress bounce the lid a few inches into the air. It lands back on the box slightly askew.

Connie pulls a thin album from the box. She pats the space next to her on the bed. "C'mon. Pop a squat."

I sit next to her as she opens the book; its spine emits a loud crack, as if it hasn't been touched in years. Judging by the hand smudges that Connie leaves in the layer of dust enveloping the covers, it hasn't.

The first page has photos neatly tucked into pockets. The faces peering back at me are not smiling – the Cabot clan must be stoic by nature. _Or nurture_ , I muse.

I can easily pick out my mother – but for a few frown lines, she looks exactly the same as she does now. The stately man sitting next to her must be my father – though he isn't smiling, I can see a twinkle in his eyes, as if he's always amused by something. I wonder how he ever ended up with my mother. His large, yet graceful, hand rests on the shoulder of a timid young girl – she is no more than six, and yet her eyes are old. I know that look because I see it every time I look into the mirror.

"That's me," I whisper, touching the picture gently. "Is that Dad?"

Connie laughs softly. "I haven't heard that word in years. Your mother never was one for colloquialisms, but even she endured you calling your father 'Dad.'"

"We look so…serious."

"Were you expecting anything different?" Connie asks. I turn my head and glance at her, finding that she's only half-joking.

"Not really, I guess. But we certainly don't look like a family."

Connie is silent as she turns the page. "Time for a little quiz. Let's see if there's anything left in your brain." She points to the picture of a young boy. He looks like he's about to burst out laughing. "What's his name?" Connie prods.

I am silent, searching frantically in my mind for the right answer. I close my eyes tightly and scrunch my nose, hoping that intense concentration might bring something up, but nothing's working.

"I don't know," I admit.

"That's your cousin, Tim. But no worries," Connie says confidently. She flips a page or two before settling on one with about fifteen pictures. These are happier pictures – children are smiling and running. _Funny,_ I think, _where are the adults?_

"How about her?" Connie points to a girl of about nine or ten. Something about her face makes me exasperated and at the same time, amused. The corners of her mouth are turned up slightly and her eyes sparkle – she knows something we don't, and whatever it is, it's really good.

I smile widely. "That's me."

Connie nudges my shoulder. "Just testing." She turns more pages this time – instead of ambling lazily around the pages of the album like before, she is now searching for something. I know when she finds it because she smiles a bittersweet smile. I can't help imitating it even though I have no clue why.

Instead of asking me, Connie slides the album into my lap. There is only one picture on that page, perfectly centered and exquisitely preserved. I look at her questioningly for a moment, but she gestures for me to peruse the picture. An involuntary gasp escapes from my lips when I see the picture. _Max_ , I think.

Connie sits up straight. "I thought this one might help a little. Do you know who he is?" she asks eagerly.

"Max," I exhale. "He…he lived across the street from us." I am searching my memory now, searching it hard, trying to call up any speck of recognition I can find. "Oh, he had the most wonderful laugh. What was it that he always used to say?" I press my hands to my temples, trying to squeeze the information out of my brain. It's there, I know it is, but I can't seem to catch it. "He would run around with that stupid Nerf gun and yell…oh, what was it!" I gasp again as a piece of the phrase comes back to me. "All hail the Prince…the Prince of…"

"Banitor," Connie offers. "Alex, this is wonderful! You'll be good as new in no time." Connie's smile is wide and genuine and infectious. She reaches over the album to hug me, and it slides out of my lap. I pick it up, eager to look at it again – what other memories might it pull out of me?

I gaze at the picture of Max for a little while longer. Random flashes are coming back to me now – the smile of a confident kid, the games we used to play in the yard when my mother wasn't looking, the laughter, and…and a dreary day filled with somber people in black. Why do I remember that?

"Connie," I ask slowly, "where's Max now?"

Her smile falters and her eyes wander to the dates beneath the picture. There are two: a birth date and…

"No!" I throw the album on the bed and start to pace.

"Alex," Connie implores, "it happened so long ago. Don't fret about it now. You barely got over it the first time."

Tears are streaming down my face as I remember what happened.

" _You can't catch me!" Max yelled, sticking his tongue out as he ran past me. It was a rare day with no supervision. Whenever this happened, we ran to the river behind Max's house. We would spend the whole day there, trying to catch fish and frogs, splashing each other with the most water we could. Only one person ever came looking for us, and that was Connie. We had been playing for so long that we lost track of time. After that, she made us come back as soon as the sun started to dip, which was fine with us – we were out there not too long after it first came up anyway._

" _Oh, yes I can!" I yelled back. Max had always been just a hair taller than me, and he had an annoying habit of letting me catch up with him before taking off like a rocket. I couldn't stand it when he did that, and yet I never asked him to stop._

_Eventually, after we had both run out of air, we stopped and sat on a log. Our feet were dangling in the water as we played a game of 'I Spy.'_

" _Let's go for a swim," Max said._

_I shook my head immediately. Max was the daredevil and I was the pragmatist. Sometimes I caved to his hare-brained schemes, but for the most part, I saved us from some serious trouble on many occasions._

" _Max, you know we can't. The current's too strong."_

_He shoved my shoulder playfully. "Aw, you're no fun." But he didn't jump in. I knew he wouldn't – he only disregarded me if he knew my reasons for protesting were stupid. These were valid – we had even tested the strength of the water by letting frogs go at the fastest part. It shocked me how fast they had flown. Sometimes, during a quiet moment, I would remember that day and wonder what had happened to those poor frogs._

" _Well, then let's go climb a tree or something. This is boring." Max jumped up from the log and started running to our favorite tree – it was a huge tree, and the spaces in between the branches were perfect for our small arms to reach._

_There was a tire tied to one of the branches with a rope, but we had never swung on it – somehow, we always ended up pelting each other with twigs and pine cones._

_Today, however, the tire was too enticing to ignore. We each took a few swings, and it was exhilarating – the world flew back and forth like a pendulum, blurring in my eyes and yet somehow getting clearer._

_I noticed that it had started to get dark, so I told Max that we had to start heading back. I climbed down the tree and waited, only to find that he was still on the tree._

" _Come on, Max! We'll get in trouble!"_

" _Just one more swing!" he yelled. He pulled the rope back as far as it would go, and he swung in a graceful arc. As he got to the top of the curve, the rope snapped under the combined weight of him and the tire. I watched him fall helplessly. He landed on the ground, and something made a loud crack. I heard him groan, and I felt relieved – it was probably just the tire that had broken._

" _Max, that was the dumbest thing you've ever done," I yelled as I ran to him. "Come on, get up. We have to go now."_

_He wasn't moving. He wasn't making any sound, which was strange – usually, it took a lot more than a fall from a tree to silence him._

" _Max, this isn't funny," I said shakily as I got nearer to him. But I knew he wasn't joking when I saw him lying on the ground. He had landed on his wrists, and I only distantly noticed that his legs were bent at strange angles._

_I shook his shoulder. "Max, get up right now!" He didn't. I shook him some more, and when he didn't respond again, I ran. My breath came out in squeaky sobs as I tried to tell his parents what happened. They didn't understand a word of it, but the look on my face sent his father sprinting in the direction of the woods._

_When I have a bad day, or when I can't sleep, I can still picture his legs flopping uselessly as his father carried his lifeless body from the dense forest of trees._

"Alex. Alex, are you okay?" Connie's voice filters back into my mind, and it takes a considerable effort for me to focus on it.

"Why would you show me that picture?" I hiss hoarsely.

"I'm so sorry, Alex. I forgot," she says sheepishly.

I reel on her, eager to get out some of my anger. "You _forgot_? How could you forget? How in the world could you forget?" I slump to the floor. "And why can't I?" I give in to the tears, and Connie is immediately there, rubbing my back and kissing my head as I sob into her shirt.

"Shh," she soothes. "It's okay; it's not your fault. Let me take that." She tries to pry the photo album from my grasp. I grip it tighter.

"Please, let me keep it. I can't let him go again."

"Okay, okay," Connie concedes. "It's okay, Alex. I'm here." She rocks me for a few more minutes as I calm down.

"Are you okay now?" she asks quietly. I nod slightly and wipe the tears angrily from my face. She looks guiltily into my eyes. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember that day. It took you years to get over his death. You blamed yourself for what happened."

"That's because it was my fault," I say bitterly. She tries to console me, but I cut her off. "I was the one who said that we should swing on it. And, well, you know Max – he always had to have the last word, always had to be the best. If I hadn't said anything, he'd still be alive."

"You don't know that, Alex."

"Neither do you," I counter. We're both silent for a moment, lost in the maelstrom of our emotions. More than anything, I'm confused – I feel devastated at losing Max again, but I feel inexplicably happy that I remembered something. How can I feel so happy when the memory is so horrible?

"Can you leave me alone for a while, Connie?" I feel bad asking her to leave, but I need some time alone.

"Of course," she replies. She takes the box with her as she exits, but I don't let her take the photo album with Max's picture. I glance at the rest of the pictures, but none of them hit me on such a visceral level as Max's did. The force with which that memory came back scared me – why can't I remember any happy times? I want to push more memories to come out, but I'm scared about what might happen – what other terrible things are buried within me?

Maybe Mother was right. Maybe I do need a neutral environment. I can remember how much I adored Max, and even that was nothing compared to what I feel every time I look at Olivia. If I love her that much, that means that she can hurt me that much. I can't imagine being able to survive being hurt again.

Suddenly, going back to Olivia seems like the worst idea in the world.


	17. Chapter 17

_Kathy Stabler_

"It's okay, Liv…Just get it all out." I smooth her hair back from her face and rub her back as she vomits into the toilet. This is the third time it's happened tonight; neither of us has slept much. I doubt Liv has slept at all. She's been in here almost every two hours, losing the contents of her stomach as if she has food poisoning. There isn't much left to throw up, but that doesn't stop her from gagging.

Olivia rests her head between her hands and coughs violently. A dainty golden necklace with a small blue sapphire dangles dangerously close to the water.

"That's a nice necklace, Liv. Where did you get it?" I ask softly.

This brings on a fresh wave of nausea. I sigh and whisper soothingly, letting her know I'm here for her.

"Alex gave it to me," she finally croaks. I expect her to say more. She doesn't, so I don't push.

I lead her slowly back to the couch, making sure that she gets settled in. "You need to get some sleep, Liv. I know it's rough right now, but you don't need to make yourself any more miserable than you already are. Sleep will do you some good."

The sun is peeking through the curtains. I pull them closed so Liv can sleep more easily. The silence in the room is overwhelming, and I jump with a yelp when I feel two hands on my shoulders.

"Shh. Hey, calm down. It's just me."

I turn around to face Elliot. "Jeez, El! You scared me to death!"

He smiles, amused. "Sorry. How's Liv doing?"

I sigh. "It's been a rough night. We didn't really sleep much." I look back at her unmoving form on the couch. "Is she still awake?"

Elliot shakes his head. "Nah, she's out like a light." He runs his hands comfortingly down my arms. "You look tired, too. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"No, I should stay with Liv. She might wake up –"

"Kathy, she'll be fine. Go get some rest."

Elliot enfolds me in his arms and I rest my cheek against his strong chest. I feel like I could pass out right here. "What are you doing awake, anyway?"

He rests his chin on my head. "It's almost 7:00. I'm off to work." With a quick kiss to my brow, he pulls away from me. "Get some rest, and don't let Liv come to work, okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

"Thanks for helping out, Kath." He turns around to grab his keys. With a final glance back at me, he says, "I love you," and is quickly out the door.

I check on Olivia one more time before heading to the bedroom. As soon as I slide under the covers, I feel as though I've been awake for days. I'm asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

/

_Elliot_

Work isn't nearly as satisfying without Olivia. Her empty desk looks as if she might come back any minute – papers strewn about, uncapped pens lying everywhere – but I know better. It could be quite a while before we see her around here.

"Elliot." Cragen is in front of me in his usual stance, looking dignified and authoritative with his hands on his hips. He also looks puzzled. "Where's Olivia?"

"She's…she's with Kathy right now. She's not doing too great."

"Oh." Cragen shifts around uncomfortably. "Why?"

I know Olivia told me not to tell anyone about Alex, but I can't keep it in anymore.

"Look, Cap, Alex woke up a few days ago. Don't get too excited or anything – she doesn't remember a thing, not even Liv. Anyway, Alex's mom showed up at Liv's apartment and took Alex back with her."

"Liv's not taking it too well, huh?" Cragen grunts.

"Liv's not taking it too well," I affirm. "Anyway, I just thought you should know. But keep it quiet? You know how Liv is."

"Sure, sure," Cragen nods. He starts to walk away then turns back. His eyes are worried. "How long do you think she'll be gone?"

"She's bad, Cap. She's really bad. If Alex doesn't get better soon, I don't know how Liv will handle it."

Cragen nods resignedly. "Okay. But you help her in any way you can, got it?" He almost sounds angry. I know he's not; he's just worried. It's how I feel, too.

"You don't have to tell me twice," I say.

Cragen walks away and I'm left alone. Fin and Munch are off at a crime scene, but it's more than that. With Olivia gone, it's like a part of me is missing. It's like trying to talk with no lips, see with no eyes – it's not that it's hard to do; it's impossible to do. The day Liv comes back to work is the day I become whole again. I just hope Alex is trying her best to get better.

/

_Alex_

"Was Dad as uptight as Mother is?"

Connie squirms. We are lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and wondering where our lives have gone. Well, I don't know about Connie, but that's what I'm doing.

"No. He wasn't warm and fuzzy all the time, but he had his moments." I can feel her smiling. "I remember one time, he called you out of school and took you to all your favorite museums. You were such a nerd." She nudges me with her shoulder. "Your mother didn't approve, but she got over it. In her own way, she loved your father. She's not a horrible person, you know."

I sigh. "I know. But she certainly doesn't make it easy to love her."

"Well, then your dad must have been someone pretty special to see through that, huh? And I know you love her, too. Everyone has their walls, Alex."

"Connie, Mother doesn't have any walls; she _is_ one. The Great Wall of China."

Connie snorts. "Yeah, you have a point there." She hoists herself up onto her side. "Are you going to talk to her?"

I match her position, resting my cheek on my hand. "I don't know. I get exhausted just thinking about trying."

She nods. "I understand." Looking down, she fidgets a little, playing with the carpet. I know the feeling; I'm anything but comfortable right now. "How's your memory?" she asks a little too nonchalantly. "Is anything coming back?"

Now it's my turn to pick at the carpet. "Yeah, I think so," I lie. Fortunately, she reads the sincerity in my awkward smile and drops the subject. Of course, the only thing sincere about that smile was my wariness that she might see right through me. I guess I've been away for too long for her to remember how to read me. I don't know if I should feel good or bad about that; for now, all I can feel is extreme guilt. I don't know why I can't tell her the truth. I guess I just don't want to disappoint anybody anymore.

My brief time with Olivia is quickly fading into an impossible hope, a future I can never have. Each day that passes without her reminds that I'm completely helpless. Even if I wanted to go back to her, it wouldn't mean anything. I don't know how to act around her, and there isn't any familiar role to slip back into. Every bone in my body is screaming at me, telling me to run back to her right now. But I can't. There isn't any sense in making myself any more miserable than I already am. Right now, if I went back to Olivia, I would destroy myself. It's better for both of us if I give her some space for a while.

"Alex?" Connie's voice intrudes upon my thoughts.

My eyes flick to hers. "Hmm?"

"You _are_ going back, aren't you?"

I look at her for a moment before answering. "Yeah," I lie again.

"Good. Because I can guarantee you she's going out of her mind worrying about you."

My stomach starts turning uneasily. "Yeah, I know. It's just gonna take some time. And I can't spend my life waiting for something that may never come back."

Connie scrunches her eyebrows in suspicion. "I thought you said your memory was coming back."

"It is," I say a little too quickly, eager to gloss over my lie. "Just not as quickly as I'd like it to." _At least that much is true_ , I think.

"Well, okay," Connie says hesitantly. "But it will kill her if you don't. You know that."

"Yes, Connie, I know that," I snap. "I'm not doing any better, if you hadn't noticed." I take a deep breath and expel it slowly. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little frustrated right now. Actually, a lot frustrated, and even more exhausted."

"I know," she replies understandingly. "Just don't let it build up." She gets up, knees cracking slightly as they bend after hours of no use. She extends a hand to me, hauling me up. Her grip is surprisingly strong for such a petite woman.

She brushes some lint off of my shoulders. "You should get some rest," she says with an authority that only comes from years of being my caretaker. Her words are merely a suggestion, but her tone is commanding.

I smile bravely. "Yes, ma'am," I say, laughing lightly. She walks softly out of the room, and I am left with remnants of my former self. I am the 500-piece jigsaw puzzle whose pieces have been chewed on past the point of recognition by an oblivious toddler. I lay in my bed and scrunch my eyelids tightly shut, trying my hardest to remember something, anything. But, much like previous attempts, nothing surfaces. I know my memory is lurking somewhere in the back of my mind; I can feel it tickling my thoughts. I'm still hopeful that it will come back, but for now, I have to work on rebuilding myself without it. For now, I have to stop trying to be who I was and focus on being who I am.

As much as I hate to admit it, who I was may forever be a thing of the past.


	18. Chapter 18

_Alex_

The cool morning air hits my face like a slap as I step outside. It is a welcome intrusion – any longer in that house and I may have withered away. I walk aimlessly, letting my feet lead me and turning only when it feels right. As I walk, I try as hard as I can to remember something, anything about my life. I get nowhere; it feels like a dream, something that wasn't real and won't ever be, no matter how much I try. And yet I know it is – Olivia's pain is real because I feel it, too. I imagine that were I in her situation, I would be feeling and acting the same way she is. From what I can gather, she hasn't just lost someone she loved. She's lost her entire world. I can't even begin to describe the immense guilt I feel about that. Guilt and pressure to fix it. And fear, always fear. Fear that I'll be wrong, that I'll just be a huge disappointment for the rest of my life. Fear that I'll never come back and I'll have to live with the fact that I was responsible for breaking one of the strongest women to ever have existed. I can't face my problems – hiding out at my mother's house is the only thing I can do right now. It's hard not to run back, and it's the most cowardly thing I can do, but I'm safe in my cowardice. I'm safe in my misery because I know it would be greater if I were to go back to Liv and fail her. Failure is not an option in my book, especially when it comes at the expense of someone else's feelings.

I only notice that I've stopped walking because I've taken a short break from my thoughts. I look around to see where I am and I notice that my feet have brought me to an unfamiliar apartment building. There is a diner across the street and I walk over there, hoping that some food will boost my spirits, or at least settle the butterflies in my stomach. As soon as I step in the diner, however, the smell of hot bacon and grease assaults my nostrils and I can't take it. But I stay because it's warm and comfortable.

A homely waitress sits me at a dingy booth. I order some coffee and revel in its warmth; it is giving me false confidence, maybe even false hope, because if I close my eyes and take a sip, I can smell the diner, smell the food and the people, and for a moment, pretend that everything is okay.

"Will that be all for you, ma'am?" The waitress is back, an unwelcome invader trespassing on my nostalgia. I nod and leave some cash on the table, running out of the diner that has suddenly become too cramped for me to function. I go back across the street to the apartment complex. I don't know why I'm here, but I figure that I must be here for a reason, so I park myself on the stoop.

I watch the people as I pass by, scrutinizing each face, asking myself if it's one that I've seen before. Is my best friend hidden in the crowd? An ex-girlfriend, anyone from my past that might help me? I try not to look too suspicious, but no one is even sparing me a passing glance. They're all too busy to care about the lost and helpless woman sitting on the stairs.

"Alex?" A face is suddenly looking down at me, both confused and incredulous. I mirror the look because I feel it, too – this is a face I know, or knew, at least. Once again, the matching name is dangling just outside my reach.

"Yes," I say cautiously – just because I know this face doesn't mean it's a friendly one.

"What are you doing here?"

"I…I don't know," I stutter. "Who are you?"

As soon as I see his face change, contort into a frown, sad eyes boring holes in me, pleading with me to remember, I know that this man is a friend. Probably even a close one.

"It's Elliot," he says miserably. He sits next to me, resting his arms on his knees.

"Elliot." I try out the name on my lips, testing to see if it feels right. "Elliot," I repeat. "Hi, Elliot."

"Hi," he smiles back. "How you doing?" He winces. "Sorry, stupid question. Are you looking for Liv?"

"Why, do you know her?" I ask hopefully.

"Uh, yeah," he says, tripping over his words. "We work together. We're partners."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay."

I don't know what else to say to Elliot – how do you talk when you have nothing in common anymore?

"Why aren't you at work?" I finally say.

"I was actually just on my way. I know it's a little early to be starting the day, but I had to get out of the house."

"Why?"

He stalls for a moment. "Look…Liv is actually in there right now. Do you want to talk to her?"

I consider this for a moment. I would like very much to talk to her, to see her and apologize for my mother, for allowing her to take me away and for not coming back. But I can't get rid of the fear. I can't stop asking myself "What if…" What if I go see her and I make things worse? What if I remember everything? What if I go back to her? That is the most frightening thing to me right now – going back and having to open myself up once more to the possibility of rejection. So I would like to talk to her, but I can't. Not now.

"Actually, do you mind if I tag along with you? I need to be away from her, too."

Elliot smiles and squeezes my shoulder. "No problem."

/

_Elliot_

Alex is like an apparition to me. I'm not sure if she's real – I know I can touch her and talk to her, but she doesn't seem real sitting in my car. This whole situation doesn't seem real. It can't be real because I can't bear to see two of my friends be so miserable.

We don't make any small talk on the way to the precinct, but only because we don't know what to say. Anything I could possibly say wouldn't be enough. So we pass the car ride in silence, each of us wishing for the same thing: that things could go back to normal.

I park at the precinct and turn to Alex before we go inside. "Listen, there are gonna be people in there who know you, who are happy to see you. If you don't want to deal with that, you just tell me and I can let them know. I can talk to them and tell them to just leave you alone if that's what you want."

Her eyes are relieved and she nods slowly. "Okay. Then you walk with me and we'll do this together, okay? I got you."

"Okay."

We walk into the building and I can see the flashes of recognition going off in people's eyes. I kill them with a glare. Alex reaches for my hand and squeezes it hard, telling me how afraid she is and thanking me at the same time. She stops me before I open the doors to the one-six.

"Elliot, if things start coming back to me, if any of this somehow triggers memories, I want you to ignore it, okay? Don't be shocked, don't tell me how great it is, just talk to me like you would if I had my memory back."

"Okay, I can do that."

I walk in and not surprisingly, everyone is already there. Though it's early, we've all been working around the clock, trying to distract ourselves from missing Olivia. I gesture for Munch and Fin to join me in Cragen's office.

Cragen is on the phone when we barge in, and as soon as he sees us, he hangs up. "What's going on? Is Liv okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine," I say quickly. "It's just that Alex is outside the precinct right now, and she wanted me to tell you that she doesn't want you guys to make a big deal about her being here. I know it's gonna be hard, but just let her be here on her own terms. And if she remembers anything, don't act surprised. Just keep going with it – maybe today she'll be back for good."

They look at me for a long time before they nod their understanding. "Okay. I'm gonna go get her." I walk back outside and nod for Alex to follow me. I let her follow me; I don't lead. I want to see if she knows what to do. She may not want us to talk about her memory, but I'm still gonna put it to the test.

She only gets about four steps in before she stops. She just stands there, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. After a moment, she opens her eyes and looks around the room, trying to decide where to go. I get up from my desk and gesture for her to take it.

"You can sit at my desk if you want. I can work from Olivia's today."

"Thanks."

"Sure." I sit down and start working. For the first twenty minutes or so, I can feel people looking at Alex, their eyes prompting her to do something, say something that the old Alex would say. Every time I see this, I clear my throat and the curious eyes flit back to their work. After an hour, no one is paying any attention to Alex. We simply work through the day like it's a regular one; the replacement ADA yells at me, I yell at him, and Cragen yells at both of us. As the day passes, I find myself getting nostalgic for the genuine arguments I used to have with Alex. Fighting with her is not like fighting with this asswipe – Alex actually has conviction. This guy's flakiness makes me want to eat my gun. Maybe I'm biased because I've worked with Alex for so long; maybe I have a soft spot for strong women. Or maybe this guy is just a huge tool. If you took a poll of the office, it'd probably be number three.

Right now, Alex doesn't look so strong. She looks just as defeated as she was during the whole Sam Cavanaugh debacle. It scares me – I can't think of many people who are as put-together as Alex is. Or maybe she's not always so put together; I don't know. I certainly don't know her as well as Liv does. But when I see her, she's unmovable, a pillar of strength. Looking at her today, sitting helplessly in my desk, her eyes desperately searching for something familiar, she has crumbled. To see such a quick and drastic change in a woman whom I've always found to be steadfast and stubborn (sometimes to her detriment) is disconcerting, to say the least. It boggles my mind to realize just how big of an impact one person can have on everyone else.

"Elliot?" Alex taps me softly on the shoulder. "I got lunch." She points to the sandwich that I never noticed being put on my desk.

"What? Oh, thanks. What'd you get me?" I ask as I unwrap it, expecting a generic sandwich that I would never even dream of eating.

"Ham, salami, and turkey on rye with American cheese, lettuce, mayonnaise and mustard, no sprouts, no tomato. From Eli's," she says, talking about the deli down the street.

I smile as I thank her and take a huge bite of my favorite – and usual – sandwich.

/

_Alex_

I know that the sandwich I got for Elliot is his usual. I ordered everyone's usual when I got to Eli's. I don't know how I knew what to get, but I did. I keep telling myself that I must have known because it was just second-nature, that I'd just done it so many times that I wasn't even aware of what I was saying. I don't want to get my hopes up, but it's hard not to. They're hovering just a little off the ground right now.

I watch Elliot's face as he bites into his lunch. I can see the smile that he tries so hard to hide. It encourages me – maybe this whole thing will be over really soon and things can go back to normal. And yet I restrain myself. I restrain myself because Elliot restrains himself. I know that he said he wouldn't make a big deal out of it, but I can sense that Elliot is the kind of guy who can't keep the big secrets secret. So I know that this isn't a big deal. Sometimes a sandwich is just a sandwich.

This sandwich, though, this sandwich is a sign to me. A sign that being at my mother's house is doing me no favors. Just being in the precinct, for however brief a time, is doing wonders. I don't feel so lost, so detached from everything. As much as it scares me to go back to Olivia, I think I have to if I want to survive this.

Elliot finishes work early, no doubt for my sake. We drive home in silence, stopping only once to get some dinner. Once again, without anyone's help, I order just the right thing for Olivia. I know because Elliot is really bad at hiding the approving twinkle in his eye. Maybe I would remember everything if people asked me questions while enticing me with doughnuts. Food seems to be my specialty.

My heart is pounding as I stand outside the door, waiting for Elliot to turn the key. It seems like my entire life depends on what's waiting for me on the other side. Will it hurt her too much to see me, to talk to me, without actually talking to _me_? For the first time since I lost my memory, I don't care. I have to stop worrying about what other people are going to think and start focusing on how I can help myself, what's best for me. And what's best for me right now is being somewhere where I feel comfortable, where I feel safe.

After what seems like an hour, Elliot opens the door. It's dark inside, and quiet; he looks to the couch and finds it empty. No doubt he's looking for Olivia. Not finding her, he motions for me to follow him and he sets the food down on the counter soundlessly. He and I take all the cartons out of the bags in silence, neither of us really focusing on what we're doing. Just as I scrunch up the last bag, a figure slinks out of the dark hallway, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Hi." That one word shoots out of me like I've just been punch. It is the only thing I'm capable of doing right now – I've forgotten how to think, how to feel, how to breathe.

She smiles incredulously. "Hey."


	19. Chapter 19

_Olivia_

The night at Elliot's is horrible, maybe the worst night I've ever had in my life. I just want to get everything out of me – maybe if I throw up everything, my worries and problems will go along. But they don't. Instead, I spend countless hours in the bathroom trying in futility to make everything better.

In time, my body gives up and my mind surrenders to exhaustion. I'm asleep before I can thank Kathy properly for taking care of me. My sleep is wonderfully empty – my mind is clear of any dreams or horrible nightmares to fill the void Alex has left in me. I wake up around three in the afternoon; I head to the bathroom, grab a handful of chips on my back, and pass out once more.

The next time I wake up, I'll feel like I'm actually dreaming.

/

_Kathy Stabler_

Once Elliot leaves for work, I give in to my all-too-tempting bed. I hide in its covers and mass of pillows, trying to shield myself from the sadness that seems to pervade the apartment. In seconds, I am blissfully asleep, my mind too tired to conjure up any unwanted images.

I wake up around noon, too restless to sleep any longer. I creep out of the bedroom as quietly as I can and check on Olivia. She is sleeping heavily, drool seeping out of the corner of her mouth. My motherly instinct tells me to clean it up immediately, but the more sensible part of me knows not to wake her up. Instead, I sit on the arm of the couch and stroke Olivia's hair, hoping that even in her unconscious state she can feel support. I survey her face – even in sleep, away from all the uncertainties and trials of life, the worry-lines on her face are all too apparent. I wish I could be the one to assuage her fears.

For the rest of the day, I hole up in the bedroom and lounge. I flip through every horrible daytime talk show, every soap opera, getting lost in the detachedness of it all. I actually finish the newspaper crossword; I get halfway through a book, something I haven't done in years. I hear Olivia stir in the afternoon, but I don't disturb her. If she needs something, she knows where I am. It's better to let her come to me if she has to than to force something out of her.

The next activity I hear isn't until about three or four hours later. At first I think it's Olivia again, but then I listen to the footsteps – they are slightly heavier and more exact. _Elliot_ , I think with a smile. Just as I leave the bedroom, I see Olivia coming out of the bathroom. I sneak to the kitchen behind her, not prepared for what's waiting.

"Hi," Alex breathes. She looks like she's seen a ghost, but at the same time, she's happy. I can see hope flicker lightly behind her eyes. Relief is painted clearly across her face.

"Hey," Olivia responds in kind. I can hear the smile in her voice, and hope pricks up in my heart – maybe all of this is over, maybe everything will be right again. I can't remember the last time Olivia smiled.

Behind Alex, Elliot is smiling just as proudly as I am. I signal to him and he excuses himself from the kitchen, though I doubt either Liv or Alex has noticed. I grab his hand and lead him into the bedroom, where we can talk about things without worrying about curious ears.

"Where did you find Alex?" I whisper.

"She was sitting on our stoop when I left for work. I took her with me." He stops there, not intending to say more.

However, I need more. "And…?" I prompt conspiratorially. "How's she doing?"

"Well, she's not all there. But I don't think she's as bad as she thinks she is. She remembered what sandwich to get me for lunch."

My eyes widen. "Really? Good for her. Jeez, even I can't remember that."

"Ha ha," he deadpans. "Anyway, I have a good feeling about this. They're going to make it."

"Don't get your hopes up, Elliot," I caution. "Just because you want something doesn't mean it's going to happen."

"It's got to happen, Kathy. I mean, c'mon. It's Alex and Liv. They were made for each other. Any idiot can see that. They have to get through this."

"I know. I want them to, too. But it's out of our control." My stomach rumbles. "You think they're done talking in there? That food smells too good for me not to eat."

Elliot chuckles. "I don't think they'll ever really be done talking. Let's give them some more time. I'm gonna take a shower. Why don't you pull out some of those chocolates you have hidden in your dresser to tide you over?" he suggests as he closes the bathroom door.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say as I pull three out of the trick compartment behind my shirts.

/

_Olivia_

About three hours after I fell asleep for the second time, I wake up again, my bladder about to burst. Coming out of the bathroom I'm still sleepy; that's why it takes a while for my mind to adjust to the scene before me: Alex and Elliot, both looking surprised as they arrange food on the kitchen counter. I rub my eyes just to make sure that I'm actually awake.

"Hi."

I can't quash the smile that forms involuntarily on my lips. "Hey." I lose myself in Alex's eyes for a few minutes, and when I come to my senses again Elliot is gone. "I thought you were at your mother's," I blurt, not really knowing what else to say.

"I was," she says simply. "But I can't be there anymore. It's too draining."

"Oh. Okay."

The next few moments pass by awkwardly. I want to run to her, crush her in my arms and never let her go. But I can tell that she's not completely back – she's not my Alex just yet. Right now, it's better if I let her come to me.

"I got you some dinner," she says lamely. "I thought you might be hungry."

"Yeah, I guess I am," I say, only now realizing how famished I actually am. I sniff the air. "Italian?"

She smiles for the first time. "Yeah. From Luigi's."

I look at her warily. "I only like one thing from there," I mention as a test.

Her smile widens. "Yeah, I know. Cheese ravioli with heaps of meat sauce and extra garlic bread."

Hope rises quickly in my chest. "You remember?" I ask eagerly.

Alex looks at me sadly. "Not everything," she says. "But I do seem to have better luck with food." She spoons some dinner onto my plate and hands it to me.

I carry it to the table and pull out a chair for her. "Care to join me?" I ask hopefully.

She looks at me gratefully, as if she thought I wouldn't ever ask her. "Sure," she says, trying, and failing, to be nonchalant.

She slides gracefully into the chair across from me, and a few seconds pass in silence as she watches me eat. To tell the truth, I'm not really paying attention to the food – it's more of a distraction so that I can formulate the proper thing to say.

"I don't know why you don't just get meat ravioli," Alex finally says. "It's the same thing."

I smile inwardly. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend that Alex was back – she says this every time I get food from Luigi's. "It's not the same thing," I chuckle. "But I'll let it go this time. We have more important things to talk about." I swallow a bite of my food. "How'd you run into Elliot?"

Alex looks embarrassed. "Well, I kind of…ended up on his stoop this morning. I just started walking from my mother's house and before I knew it, I was here. I was sitting for about five minutes before he came out the door."

"Did you go to work with him?"

"Yeah, I basically spent the entire day sitting and watching everyone. It's not normally that dreary in there, is it?" she asks. I shake my head. "I didn't think so," she continues. "Everyone misses you, Liv. They all seemed so miserable."

"They miss you, too, Alex," I say softly. "They're two colleagues short right now." I furrow my brows quizzically. "You do know you're a lawyer, right?"

She nods. "I figured it out today. Your replacement sucks. He's too cowardly to handle any SVU cases."

As much as I would like to quibble with Alex about work, I have to focus on the issue at hand. Work can wait forever for Alex to get better. I can't. I steer the conversation back onto a more pressing, though decidedly less comfortable, topic.

"So did you just stop in to say hi? Are you going back to your mother's?"

Her response is immediate. "No. I'm going to have a driver bring my stuff over. I was hoping…can I come back and stay with you?" She slurs her words, getting her question out in a rush of a breath.

I try not to smile too wide – just because she wants to come back doesn't mean she _is_ back. "Of course you can. I don't know why you left in the first place," I say without thinking. It is only after I say it that I think she might be offended.

She isn't. "I don't know, Liv. It was just easier to be away from you for a while. It was getting to be a little too overwhelming. But being with my mother was worse. She's hopelessly stifling, even though she doesn't always mean to be. Anyway, I figured that I needed to be where I felt most comfortable. And I feel most comfortable in your apartment."

I'm a little disappointed; it's not just my apartment. It's our apartment. It's more than that, it's our home. "Just my apartment?" I ask, only half joking.

"No," she finally admits. "I feel most comfortable with you. I don't know why, but I do. I can't imagine why I ever tried to tell myself otherwise."

This time it is my turn to act nonchalant. "Well, good. It's about time you came home."

She covers my free hand with hers. The feeling of her warm skin on mine knocks the breath out of me for a moment – I'd forgotten what it felt like to have her near me, touch me without thinking twice. I can barely focus on what she says next.

"Liv, just because I'm coming back with you doesn't mean everything's back to normal. I still have a lot of holes to fill in my memory. I still need time to sort everything out."

"I know, Alex," I say, grasping her hand tightly in mine. I need to squeeze her hand as hard as I can to actually realize that she's here and I'm allowed to touch her again. "I understand. But at least you'll finally be sorting everything out in the right place."

A smile creeps onto her face. "Well, that's true." Her eyes twinkle with anticipation and suddenly I'm not hungry anymore. Well, at least not for ravioli. The urge to kiss her right now is overwhelming – her lips are tantalizing, and her eyes are sparkling teasingly like they used to. She licks her lips and I can tell she feels the tension, too. But now is not the right moment. As much as I would like to leap across the table and wrap her in my arms, I need to give her time to process everything.

For now, I can feel content with simply holding her hand and never letting go. I give her fingers one more quick squeeze and she responds with one of her own. We look at each other and smile, both knowing what we just passed up and how right of us it was to do so. I cut a bite of ravioli with my fork as I gently stroke my thumb over hers.

I can't help but think that we're going to be okay.


	20. Chapter 20

_Alex_

Liv drives us home from Elliot's in silence. It is the most silent of silences I've ever heard, but it's not a bad one. She keeps looking at me, stealing glances in between paying attention to the road, and I can't help a small smile from creeping onto my face. She makes me feel like a teenager all over again – being in love without really knowing how. I know the feeling more than I know what to do with it. For now, I'm content to look out of the window at the city, letting myself get lost in the tall buildings and garish lights. It's easy.

The silence continues as we ride the elevator up to the apartment. The silence continues, and so do the stolen glances. Olivia looks at me almost every five seconds, and she always smiles afterward. She doesn't need me to look back, I know that. She just needs to know that I'm there. And I am, no matter what happens.

The door opens with a soft click of the lock, and we stumble into the dark apartment. Olivia fumbles for the light switch, and suddenly the room is bathed in a soft glow. It looks no different from the last time I was here – magazines strewn about the table, a small pile of dishes in the sink – but it feels different. It feels happier. I close my eyes and breathe it in, wondering if this is what it feels like to be home.

Liv's hand on my shoulder startles me, and I jump slightly.

"Sorry," she says as I turn around.

"No, it's okay," I reply. I look down at her hand, which hasn't left its spot. Olivia follows my gaze and removes her hand quickly. We both clear our throats.

"So, I could pull down the couch again…" she suggests, though I can tell it is only for my benefit. She doesn't want me to sleep on the couch; she'd rather have me back, with her, in her – well, _our_ , I guess – bed.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great," I say, not really paying attention to my words. "Listen, do you mind if I make a phone call really quick?"

She looks surprised. "Oh, no, not at all. Phone's in the kitchen. I'll just…get started." She gestures to the couch.

I mumble a "Great" as I walk out of the room and pick up the phone. My hands feel ten degrees cooler than the rest of my body, and at least twice as sweaty. I push the buttons with trembling fingers, expelling the air in my lungs with a shaky breath as I try to calm myself before I need to speak.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Connie. It's me."

Connie breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. We were so worried!"

"Really?" I ask, shocked that my mother actually cared about someone other than herself.

"Yes, really," Connie admonishes. "She may not have ever said anything to that effect, but I know she was. She is your mother after all."

"Yeah, I guess she is."

"Don't you ever do that again!" Connie is suddenly stern, and I smile – she sounds more like a mother right now than mine ever did. "You can't just wander off in the morning without telling me anything! Where'd you go, anyway?"

I sigh. "I ended up at Elliot's, but really I just needed to get out of that house, Connie. It was crushing me." I twist my hand around the phone nervously. "That's why I'm calling, actually. I, um…well, I'm not coming back. Can you have someone bring all my stuff over?"

There is a silence before Connie speaks that feels longer to me than it actually is. I chalk it up to nerves. "Well, it's about time! I'll have Charles come around in the morning."

"I'll miss you, too," I quip.

"Oh, don't try that on me. You're an adult. You can't live at home forever, and you certainly shouldn't live here forever. You'll end up addled and cynical like me."

"I'm not already?" Connie laughs. "Thanks, Connie. Can you…can you tell Mother for me? You know, that…" I can't really say that I'll miss her, but I can't completely erase her from my life either. She _is_ my mother, after all.

"I know." She cuts me off, saves me from having to say words I may not mean. "Of course I will. Say hi to Olivia for me."

I tell her I will and I hang up, not really wanting to face Olivia again. I decide that maybe if I just stand there, she'll find me.

/

_Olivia_

I know I said that I would leave Alex alone to make her phone call, but I still can't wrap my head around the fact that there are things in her life that I can't see or hear. It's not just that I've gotten used to living with her, that I've gotten used to her being my private life. We were one before that. I've gotten used to knowing everything about her because I've always known everything about her, at least in a metaphoric sense. So I hastily make up her bed and sneak closer to the kitchen to spy on her.

It takes me all of two seconds to realize that she's talking to Connie. It's the closest I've heard her come to the old Alex, the one who didn't want to be anywhere else than wherever I was. Still, she sounds scared, like a toddler trapped in a world that isn't his.

I peek my head around the corner after I hear her hang up. Her back is to me, which is why I chose to – well, 'spy' isn't the right word, but I guess it fits – why I chose to "be a cop" (that's better) on her from this corner. From this vantage point, I watch her as she slowly puts the phone back in its cradle. She crosses her arms and rubs them, thinking. I'm waiting for the little sigh of contemplation that always follows – yep, there it is. If this were a normal day, I would walk up behind and hug her from behind, resting my head on her shoulder and kissing it. I smile as her head twitches in that direction, as if in response to a phantom kiss. For the umpteenth time, I ask myself why her memory hasn't come back yet. Every time I see her, I want to force it out of her – I need her to remember. I can feel the urge welling up, trying to spill out of my fingers when I get close to her. It's like bringing two magnets with the same polarity together – they want to touch, but it's just never going to happen.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," Alex says without turning around. "I can feel you looking at me."

"So why don't you look back?" I retort, only half-joking. She surprises me by turning to face me, and for the first time in what feels like forever, she _is_ looking at me – really looking at me. She walks slowly toward me and I feel my heart match her pace – flowing but measured, languid but oozing sureness. Time has slowed to a crawl and I find myself watching every part of her, not just her face. Her nostrils are flared, almost angry, but her fingers are graceful and relaxed as they push a lone strand of hair from her eyes. Her shoulders are as straight as ever, because you can never erase the lawyer from her.

She stops in front of me and gently cups my cheeks in her hands and I close my eyes, relishing her touch, the contact that she initiated. She kisses me on the forehead, bending ever so slightly to do so. Her lips are soft and wonderful and so familiar. I almost cry when I feel them on my skin – it's been too long, far, far too long.

"I'm not gone," she says. I grip her wrists and stroke the backs of her hands with my thumbs, lightly kneading her skin. "Okay?" I nod, too afraid to trust my voice. "I'm just lost." She wipes away a tear that managed to escape, despite all my best efforts to be strong. She lets go of me and I feel cold, less complete.

"I can help you come back," I say, stopping her before she leaves. It's cheesy, I know, I really do, but it's true. It's _so_ true. I have to let her know before she leaves the kitchen, because somehow, if she gets into the hallway, then I've lost my chance to get her back. The small bump of wood separating carpet from tile is the thin line between life and death. Because life without Alex is no life at all.

She smiles and looks over her shoulder. "I'm counting on it."

/

_Alex_

The couch is pulled out, sheets hastily flung on it. Pillows pepper the floor – I guess they didn't make it before Olivia's nosiness kicked in.

"You know, at least when I made up a couch for you, it almost looked like a bed," I call out to her.

She almost runs out of the kitchen. "When was the last time you made up a couch for me?" she asks slowly, as if she's trying not to give away some secret answer.

I look at her like she just told me water isn't wet. "When you were in Illinois. With Elliot." She doesn't say anything. "You know, when you came down to figure out who killed Jack."

"Uh huh." Her eyes are as wide as the moon right now but her mouth is stiff.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Who's Jack?"

Her question surprises me – why should it matter who Jack is? Obviously she doesn't remember him. He was…he was…well, crap – I don't remember either. "You don't remember?" I ask, trying to deflect her question.

"Maybe a little. But so do you."

"What? Oh, my God." My hands stop fixing the sheets as I realize what she's said, what it means. I'd thought about what this would feel like, to remember my life, and I'd always pictured a sudden flood of everything coming back. Maybe there would even be a physical 'boom' to go along with it, something that I could feel in every joint, something that would resonate like a deep bass note. I never expected it to feel so normal. I'm thrown off by the ease with which I recalled the memory.

I smile at Liv, laughing nervously. She echoes my shaky laughter, and it grows to full-on hysterics as we roll on the floor, clutching our stomachs. Every time it stops, we look at each other and it starts again. Tears are leaking out of our eyes as we try to hit each other, pleading for the rapturous torture to stop. We only connect with air.

Eventually, though, the laughs fade, eking out of us with desperate gasps and whines, last-ditch attempts to refuel the fire. I wipe my eyes and get up, sitting on the couch. Olivia parks herself on an ottoman across from me.

"Oh, God, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time," she says, her voice hoarse.

"I can't remember the last time I laughed like that either," I say as I wipe my eyes. We both snort.

"Oh, don't start again," she pleads. "I can't take it."

"Okay, okay. I'm done."

She joins me on the couch and takes my hand in hers. "Do you really not remember who Jack is?" she asks softly.

"Liv, I wouldn't lie about that," I gently admonish.

"Okay." She gets up and stretches. "Well, there's a change of clothes on the coffee table for you. I'll let you get to sleep."

"Actually, I don't think I want to sleep on the couch," I say, suddenly changing my mind.

"Well, I can take the sheets off and you can start over, if you really want," she jokes.

"No, I mean, can I…can I sleep with you? I mean, in your bed," I hastily clarify. I twist the middle finger on my left hand with my right as I watch her, trying to see if I can guess her reaction. It isn't that hard to read when she starts grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah. You can."

"Great." I smile myself as I get ready. I feel suddenly tired as I pull on pajamas, and it is with seemingly heavier-than-normal limbs that I clamber into bed with Olivia. I lay on my stomach as she snuggles close and lays her hand across my back.

"Don't get any ideas, missy," I mumble into the pillow.

She giggles. "Don't worry; my intentions are pure," she mutters back, sounding a little less tired than me but just as content. "Hey, Alex?" she murmurs. I barely hear her – I'm about two seconds away from being passed out.

"Hmm?" I grunt.

"Do you remember where you are?"

I smile – it seems an odd question, but I know the answer. "Yeah," I reply. "I'm home." I can literally hear her grin, hear the slight brushing of fabric as her cheeks turn up. Her grip tightens on my side as she draws me nearer to her. I can feel the warmth radiating from her and I back into it, feeding off of it. For the first time in weeks, I am at peace. I am exactly where I should be.


	21. Chapter 21

_Olivia_

There comes a time in everyone's life where you realize exactly who you are and what you should be doing, what gives your life meaning. You'd think that at this point in my life, when I'll never see 35 again, I'd have already done that. But it's taken this terrible situation to really make me whole. It's taken Alex to define me.

I know, I know – we should never be defined by other people; what happens when they go away, right? I used to ascribe to that theory. I never really had anyone, never had a constant – other than the smashing of bottles and lamps and any other breakable object at 3 A.M – so there was no other definition of me than the one I created. But we're not simply defined by what we choose to do; we're defined also by how we choose to do it to others.

Today, I woke up next to Alex, and I was complete. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do for the rest of my life and who I was supposed to do it with. It wasn't like a light bulb going off in my head – that is too mild a realization. Knowing who I was, knowing, finally knowing what Alex meant by commitment, why it was so important to her – it was like a tank running over me at breakneck speed. It was wonderful in its gravity and forcefulness.

I have been watching Alex for about half an hour, and it still astounds me that every time I look at her I find yet another thing to love about her. Each discovery is another piece of my heart; they stitch together, joining thoughts I've never had before, making pictures that no one else has ever seen. I am inundated with a flood of understanding, and yet I'm not drowning. It's more like I'm just now acknowledging what I've always known.

(Clearly, Alex has turned me into a philosopher.)

"Are you _ever_ going to stop looking at me?" Alex pretends to be annoyed, but I can see right through her.

"Depends." I grin. "Do you want me to?"

She smiles slowly. "No," she blushes, drawing out the word ever so slightly.

"Well, then I won't." She rolls over onto her side, facing me as she tickles my hand. That simple, sweet gesture isn't so sweet to me – it's making my heart race. I try and control my breathing so she won't notice what she's doing to me. I don't want to scare her.

Thankfully, she doesn't notice, or if she does, it doesn't show. Alex stops caressing me long enough to lace our fingers together. I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it softly. I can't help it. There is only so much time I can spend with Alex without touching her, and this amount goes down exponentially if we're in a bed (which we are). She closes her eyes and I feel her fingers press into the kiss. I tell myself it's probably an unconscious action, but I try not to believe that. I need to be hopeful right now.

"Liv," she whimpers.

"I know," I say, throwing off the covers. "Come on. Let's get some breakfast."

/

_Alex_

"Do you want coffee?" Olivia looks at me in surprise, trying to read me. I smile; I have a good idea what she's thinking. "My memory's just fuzzy, Liv. I'm not stupid."

She looks a little embarrassed. "Coffee would be great."

I put the pot on and lean against the counter, suddenly wanting nothing more than to fold into myself under her intense gaze. She's looking at me like I'm Buddha and she's just discovered religion. It's disconcerting, to say the least. I'm sure I wouldn't feel nearly as uncomfortable if I knew _why_ she was looking at me like that. I cross my arms over my chest in a vain attempt to hide myself from her seemingly impossible expectations.

"Are you okay, Alex?" she asks softly. I find myself getting irrationally mad at her – it's clear that she still thinks that being home means I really am home. She said that she wouldn't push, and yet here she is almost knocking me over with her hushed voice and penetrating stare. She hasn't really listened to me at all.

"I'm fine," I snap, harsher than I intended. I grab two mugs from the cupboard and pour us some coffee, sliding her cup over to her. I slide the bowl of sugar packets over as well, noticing that there are 10, no 11 – one is peeking out. _She's going to take two_ , I think, turning away from her.

I walk around the apartment, clutching my mug as tightly as I can, using the scalding heat to distract me from getting too caught up in what I'm seeing. I let my fingers run over soft blankets and squishy pillows, allowing myself to really _feel_ them. I take off my slippers and wriggle my toes through the shag rug, relishing the way it tickles my skin. I close my eyes and hum softly to myself, releasing any ties I might have to reality. Right now, all I want to do is feel; focus on what I'm touching, what it means to be experiencing everything in this moment. My breathing relaxes, my heart calms down. I can feel my hand fusing to the couch, and yet I realize how separate I am at the same time. For a quick, fleeting moment, I am fully a part of this apartment.

"Are you at the vic's house yet?"

Olivia's voice blends into my trance, complementing it. I let it mix into my stew of sensation, completing the vision of my former life.

"Okay. Call me when you are."

I inhale sharply through my nose, trying to quell the onslaught of unwelcome memories invading my mind. Images of tears, slamming doors, terrible phone calls, and my infuriating mother rush past me in a torrent of confusion.

" _It's killing me that we can't be comfortable around people." Olivia's right – I know it, she knows it, the whole world knows it. But it's just too fucking terrifying right now._

" _I'm just not ready," I admit. I'm ashamed before the words even trickle off my tongue._

" _Fine. Call me when you are." She grabs her keys and is out the door without another word. I'm too astonished to do anything; it only kicks in about five minutes later that she might have wanted me to chase after her. By then, it's too late. The realization that she may actually be gone forever hits me with shuddering gasps; ten long (too long) minutes pass before I can breathe normally. It is with shaking fingers that I dial Elliot's number._

_He is here far too early for me to have regained my composure, and yet somehow I don't collapse in his arms as I let him in. The awkwardness lingers like a third guest, mingling with us no matter how much we try to push him away. I try to listen as he explains the mystery that is Olivia, but I can't take his tacit admonishing. I'm hard enough on myself; I don't need his scolding, however gentle, added to the mix._

" _All I'm saying is that you have the power to fix this because I don't think Liv can. I'm just saying that I don't like to see two of my friends hurting this badly."_

_With that, the conversation is over and I usher him out the door. I mumble my thanks, even though I wish he had never come._

_I hate responsibility._

"Alex? Are you okay?"

My eyes fly open at the sound of Olivia's voice. It takes a moment for the cogs in my brain to start working again; for a moment, I was puzzled as to why she was looking at me strangely. _You've just been standing still for_ – I check my watch – _twelve minutes, and I'm pretty sure there was some humming involved_ , I remind myself.

Oh, yeah.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer hastily, hoping to deter any further questions.

She smiles. "Okay. Elliot just called with a new case, so I'm afraid I have to leave." She grabs her keys and slips on her shoes, giving me a quick peck on the lips before it registers with either of us. "Sorry," she adds, blushing slightly.

She doesn't mean it.

She's gone before I realize it. So are two packets of sugar.

After Olivia leaves, I walk aimlessly around the apartment. The flash of insight that hit so forcefully earlier is gone; nothing seems to be igniting a spark of recognition in my mind. Secretly, I am relieved – everything I've remembered so far has been traumatizing, to say the least.

Were there ever any good times?

/

_Olivia_

Walking down the hallway, something feels wrong. It shouldn't – I'm going back to work, Alex is home again…

I know what's wrong.

I lurch to a stop, my finger hovering just in front of the elevator button. In a flash, I am running back to the apartment.

I fling the door open, only slightly wincing as it bangs against the doorstop. My eyes dart around frantically, resting on Alex when I find her in the kitchen fiddling with sugar packets.

"Wh-?" I drown out her feeble protests with my lips, kissing her desperately. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but that thought moves to the back of my mind, right next to "Just one more snooze button" and "I like it better from the carton, thanks very much." There isn't much room for anything but Alex in my head right now. _And on other areas of anatomy_ , I think as I pull her closer to me.

Suddenly, she is pushing me away from her. "Liv, what the hell? This is definitely not cool."

I run my hands through my hair, analyzing the panic that has set in her eyes. _Shit…what did I just do?_

"Sorry," I mumble.

She looks accusingly at me. "Well? Why did you just do that?"

_You could fall down the stairs today, or, like, be a klutz and smash yourself with the cupboard_ , I rationalize. Silently, though. Now is not the time for flippancy. "I just…I miss you," I say. _Lame, lame, lame…_

"Right. Well, that's appreciated. But what is also appreciated is _not freaking me the fuck out_. I can – I can barely think with you around as it is. I know this must be hard for you, but until you're whacked on the head by a psychopath, please don't assume that you can fix everything."

"Alex…" I start warningly.

"Don't 'Alex' me, Olivia. You said – you said – that we could take it slow, that you understood why I can't just rush into things. Now, I'm not sure, but I don't think that that qualifies as slow."

I'm getting heated up, and all I really want to do is hug Alex until she gets sick of me. _Just like old times_ , I scoff. "You know, you get really sarcastic when you're mad, Al, and it's really starting to grate."

She throws up her hands in frustration. "Well, at least I'm consistent, huh? I may be missing a gigantic chunk of my life, but at least I know that I can be just as irritating as before!"

I storm out of the kitchen. "I'm going to work."

/

_Alex_

"Have fun!" I scream as she slams the door. I growl in frustration – clearly, she doesn't understand my situation at all. I flop down on the couch and cradle my head in my hands, trying to massage all the bad feelings out of my temples. I'm getting a migraine.

Once I settle down, I realize that I don't understand her situation either – not only did she almost lose the most important person in her life, but she didn't exactly get her back either. My heart pangs with guilt as I berate myself for being an utter ass. I stare at the door, willing Olivia to come back again so I can apologize. I'd go after her but I wouldn't know how to get home. It is this feeling of helplessness that reduces me to tears.

I wish I knew how to make things right. I wish I knew how to survive this.


	22. Chapter 22

_Olivia_

"Liv! Liv! Come on, get the hell off of him!" Elliot's hands are pulling me back, preventing me from landing any more kicks to this guy's stomach. It gives me a little satisfaction to realize how much it's taking out of him to restrain me. He finally pulls me away and I skip back to the curb, the breath leaving my mouth in an angry huff.

Elliot hauls the perp up and shoves him in the car, locking the door before making his way over to me. "Liv, calm down." He steadies my shoulders in an effort to get me to look at him; my eyes are wild right now. "What the hell are you doing?" he asks in a low voice.

"He raped an eight-year-old, Elliot," I say, glaring.

"I know. Hey—I know. And as much as I would like to kick the shit out of him, I can't. _You_ can't. You know that, I know you know that. So we're just gonna go back to the precinct, okay? Let's just go back."

As soon as we get in the car, the perp starts to yell from the backseat. "I'm gonna sue your ass, bitch. That's fucking police brutality."

"Shut the fuck up, you prick." Elliot slams on the brakes and the man's face smashes into the grate. "Oops." Elliot grins at me and I chuckle.

We're back at the precinct before I know it and Cragen is breathing down our necks even sooner after that. "What the hell happened to him?"

I look over at Elliot before he swoops in to save me. "Bastard ran away. Had to use force to restrain him."

Cragen narrows his eyes at me and I try not to look so guilty. "Better hope he's a quick healer," he says meaningfully. "Go grab a coffee." Elliot drags me away before I can say that I'm not thirsty.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets when we get outside. He doesn't look at me. "Everything okay?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh yeah, everything's just peachy."

"How's Alex doing?"

Instantly, the anger in me is gone, replaced by sadness. "She's getting better, I guess," I say softly.

"But not quick enough."

"It's just hard," I admit.

"Here, have some coffee." He hands me a Styrofoam cup and I immediately take a sip, regretting it when the liquid burns my tongue. I wince as Elliot chuckles. "It'll cool off," he says with a smile. "Just be patient."

Somehow, I don't think he's talking about coffee anymore.

/

_Alex_

I don't want to say that I'm the one that messed this up, because I'm not. I also don't want to say that I'm the one who needs to fix it, because I'm not that person either. Olivia is the impatient one. I'm the victim here. Or the martyr. I can't really tell the difference right now.

I wish I could say that it's been days since that morning she ambushed me, but no—it's only been three hours and forty seven minutes. Not nearly long enough for me to deal with this in a rational manner. I don't know when it will be long enough. Maybe right around the time the sun turns to a piece of coal the size of my fist.

I flop down on the couch and press my fingers to my eyelids. Maybe if I press hard enough, I can make my memories come back, or maybe then all of the sad feelings in my mind will just ooze out of my ears. One of the two.

Christ, why is life so complicated?

"Because it's life?" I blink the colored dots from my vision and focus in the direction of the phantom voice, which I soon realize belongs to Olivia.

"Did I say that out loud?"

She smiles. "I guess you'll never know." She holds up a brown paper bag and shakes it. "Brought you some lunch."

"An apology?" I grin, suddenly aware of how hungry I am.

She considers this. "Maybe more of a peace offering."

"Ahh, still stubborn, I see." She sits down next to me and opens the bag, spreading cups of soup across the table. "Why soup?" I ask.

"Well, I always like to have soup when I'm sick. I mean, not that you're sick or anything—it just makes me feel better," she stumbles. "And hey," she adds, nudging my shoulder, "stubborn works for me. It got us together, anyway." She flashes me a lopsided grin and I can't help but return the glance.

"It sure did," I say wistfully.

" _What are you doing here, Liv?"_

" _Helping you. Or trying to, at least."_

" _Do I look like I need help?"_

" _Yes," she says, pricking irritation in my chest._

" _Well, I don't. At least not from you. So why don't you go back to New York?"_

" _I can't do that."_

" _Why not?"_

" _You need me."_

" _No, I don't. Go home."_

" _No." She doesn't even sound sheepish or sorry for pissing me off. She just says no like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and I want her to stay—I do—but on my terms, not hers._

_I feel anger boiling up and I just let it all out, surprising us both. "What is this to you, Liv? Huh? You already solved the case! Just leave!"_

" _Alex, I can't…" I'm not in any mood to hear her pleas right now. Three years of living a life I never wanted is coming out in a rush, and unfortunately she's bearing the brunt of the rage._

" _Why? Why can't you just leave me alone? What am I, a charity case?"_

" _No, I –"_

" _Are you fulfilling your desire to fix people? 'Cause let me tell you, Liv, I don't need to be fixed. I'm not broken." What a lie. What a total and utter lie. I am broken. I'm shattered and devastated and it would be great if someone saved me right now. It would be even greater if I would let them._

_She moves closer to me, reaching out an arm to comfort me. "Alex…"_

_I can't stand it, can't stand her understanding. I want her to yell at me, argue with me like she used to because then maybe it would mean that this never happened, that I'm not living in Illinois and watching my former friends investigate the death of the only person I trusted here. I want her to yell at me because I miss her passion, I miss her conviction. I miss her. I miss the way I used to feel when she looked at me like I was the bad guy. The frustration in her eyes took the breath from me more than once. I jerk away from her touch. "No, Liv! No. Why are you here, huh? Why have you been sitting in my house for three days with that utterly annoying 'I'm so concerned' face, huh? Why the hell are you here?"_

" _Because I love you!" she yells._

"Alex? Al?" I shake my head and focus on the real Olivia, the one sitting next to me who isn't afraid to love me. "Where'd you go?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry." I close my eyes tightly. "Just thinking."

"Yeah? What about?" She puts down her soup and wriggles into the couch.

I swallow a spoonful of my lunch before putting it next to hers. "You know, I'd been wanting that for a long time." She furrows her brows. "The kiss, I mean. Almost from the first day I met you. I guess for an ambitious ADA and an excellent detective, we can be pretty stupid sometimes."

She chuckles softly. "Yeah, I guess so." Her smiling is a little too wide to just be thinking about our first kiss, so I know that she's not. I'm not—I'm jumping for joy because I remembered something that wasn't completely depressing. Still, a niggling voice at the back of my mind reminds me that this doesn't mean everything will suddenly be easy and normal again. It will still be hard, still be frustrating and slow. That doesn't stop me from being happy, though.

Olivia leans back and we both stretch our legs out to rest on the coffee table. I take her hand in mine and pat it, nestling my head into her shoulder. We may both be broken, but at least we can be broken together.

Eventually, Olivia has to go back to work and I'm left on my own again. I don't mind it this time, though—it's not as oppressing now that I know there's even a smidgen of hope. I don't mind it because that brief flashback just validated my decision to come back. Now I know I really made the right choice in picking Olivia. The Olivia that I've been waiting for was the one who sat with me in silence and didn't try to pry any further. The Olivia I needed was the one who tickled the hairs on the back of my neck and listened to me breathe.

I guess she wasn't the only one who needed to do a bit of waiting.

/

_Olivia_

"Okay, so we've gotta go pick up another schmuck right now." Elliot raises his eyebrows, suggesting I keep my composure. I almost laugh at his face – I don't need any reminding right now. I just have a gigantic urge to hug everyone. Well, maybe not the rapists and perverts. But at least I won't be kicking them.

"Don't worry, Elliot, I'll behave myself." We walk outside, and I inhale deeply. "It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?"

His jaw drops a little. "Boy, you're strange," he finally says. "Oh, God, you're going to be so annoying when Alex is totally better." I pinch his cheek as we sit in the car and he pretends to be annoyed for a split second. Next thing I know, we're both laughing hysterically and the sun is shining.


	23. Chapter 23

_Elliot_

It's been almost a month since Olivia brought Alex home from the hospital, and I'm getting a little worried. Not about anything big—they both seem to be fine on the whole. Alex has started to remember most of us. I wouldn't brag about it to anyone, but she remembered me first (I stand by the fact that it was not because I found her on my stoop). She spends most of her time at the precinct, helping us out with cases. She's not our ADA right now, but that doesn't mean we can't pick her brain. I think we're rubbing off on her, and vice versa, because she's becoming more and more of a detective every day. Liv still won't take her to crime scenes, though, something Alex constantly complains about. I think she just wants to be around Liv as much as possible.

When she's not helping us, she's talking to us. One of us is always eating, which means that Alex drinks at least five cups of coffee a day (six if you count the visits to Casey). She never shares our food, even when she should. It's like we have our own built-in break time—Alex knows just when one of us needs a little conversation, and tides us over with our favorite snacks. The SVU house will never be a happy place, but it's certainly not sad anymore. Alex has changed, and has changed us. She doesn't talk about work when we chat, but sometimes it's unavoidable. If we need to vent or let off steam, she listens. I guess as a lawyer she's used to a lot of listening. She's definitely good at it.

And yet, something is off. I don't know about their home life, but Olivia doesn't pay any attention to Alex at work. Sure, she'll talk to her and joke, but there's nothing else, no real connection. It's like they've just met or something, only it's worse than that. It's like they're two acquaintances who are just work friends, and who have no desire to get to know each other any more than that. It's disorienting to someone like me who knows their history, who knows just how much they belong together. It pisses Alex off, that much I can tell. Liv either doesn't notice or pretends not to. I don't know which scares me more.

I trust them; I trust that they know what to do because they know each other, but I also know me. I know that I'm a meddler, and I'm at my wit's end with these two.

/

_Alex_

Three weeks ago, I would have told you that I was reasonably happy. I remember most of the little things about my life, and most of the big things—Witness Protection, Jack's death; it seems fitting that I remembered his death so quickly because it all started with him. I got my life back because he died. I only wish he was alive so I could thank him.

My neurologist, Dr. Lynch, has been helping a lot, too. At first, her suggestions to just talk and not think too much rubbed me the wrong way—how could something as complex as a brain injury be fixed by something so simple? How could I _not_ think about my life? This is why I'm a lawyer, not a doctor; her recommendations have floored me with their effectiveness. Every single day I go to work with Olivia expecting to spend the hours chatting as a distraction, having throwaway conversations that don't mean anything to me or Elliot, Fin, or Munch. Every day, I come home having learned something new about myself. Well, I don't know if it's learning—can you learn something you forgot you already knew?

It hasn't come in flashes of realization, like I expected it to. There are no moments in the day when normal life halts and my memory takes over. It isn't like you see in the movies, like a waterfall or a deluge of flashbacks. It's more like a trickle, a small creek fighting its way through a pile of imposing rocks. I've taken to keeping a journal just so I can remind myself of my life. I've learned how to read people, how to notice when they twitch. Elliot is the best for this—when I mention something about my past, his eyebrows flick upwards; his eyes twinkle. He's usually good about not smiling, but I can still see the small quirk at the corners of his lips that wants to be seen. He's done more for my memory than anyone else.

It's this fact that continually picks at the back of my mind. Elliot has connected the dots in my life, but only my life outside of Olivia. At work and at home, she's like my best friend, but that's it. I can see why someone would love her; I can remember most things about our life together, but that was all on my own. She hasn't done anything to reaffirm why we belong together. I see that I love her, and I know that I do, but I don't know _why_. She seems almost too afraid to be worthwhile.

I've cornered her at least twice at work to see if I could needle something out of her. I try to do this when she's especially angry; rage and passion make her that much more ready to blow up. I want her to tell me why she's holding back, and if she has to yell to do that, so be it—she's hot when she yells. (Okay, so my motives may not be _completely_ noble).

Today seems like any other day; it probably is to any other person. But I'm not just any other person. I am Alex Cabot, the lawyer formerly known as the ADA for Special Victims; Alex Cabot, Olivia Benson's girlfriend, a woman with conviction, passion, and honor; Alex Cabot, the self-assured socialite. I am Alex Cabot, and I am not that woman anymore. I am missing me because I am missing Olivia. That's why today is not just another day.

Today is the day I get Alex Cabot back.

/

_Olivia_

Work is getting boring again. Alex was right about her replacement—he does suck. He takes the easy way out on most cases, which is why everyone is so surly right now, me included.

"Liv." Alex remains the only one not pissed off because of work; she's frustrated for other reasons. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

I flick my eyes up to hers for a second, pausing before I answer. "Kind of busy, Alex."

Her eyes are steel. "Yeah, I don't care. I'm not asking you if we can talk. I'm _telling_ you we need to talk." Curious eyes peer up from neighboring desks. I throw down my paperwork and usher her into a spare interrogation room before this gets out of hand.

I cross my arms over my chest. "What's up?"

"You've been avoiding me," she says.

"I've been giving you space," I correct. Which is true—she told me she didn't want me to push, so I haven't. It wasn't easy at first, watching her live in our place, come to my work, and not be able to interact with her like I normally would. And then it stopped being hard because I remembered how I lived when we weren't together. I reverted back to the old Liv, the only who was only marginally happy. It isn't as bad this time—I still get to come home to her—and yet, it's worse. I know that I still love her; I know that I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I just don't know if _she_ does.

It's funny that now that I know what Alex meant by commitment, I don't know if she still believes in it. Believes in me.

"I don't need that much space anymore, Olivia. I need answers. I need help."

"Oh, _now_ you need help," I bite, not able to rein in my temper. "That's wonderful, Alex."

"Liv, why are you being so difficult?"

"It's been almost a month, Alex. You remember everything, right? So why haven't you…why aren't you…?"

"Why aren't I what, Olivia?" Alex goads.

"Normal!" I yell. "Why aren't you normal again? Why aren't you Alex; where's _my_ Alex?"

"And just who is _your_ Alex, Olivia, hm? Someone that you, for all intents and purposes, ignore all day? Because that's not a girlfriend, Liv, that's not _your_ anyone. That's just a friend."

"You said you needed space, Alex. I'm giving you space," I retort stubbornly.

"You know, I don't even _know_ you anymore, Olivia!"

"Well, that makes two of us!" I snap back.

A sudden rap on the glass jolts us out of our argument. A debilitating fear rises up in me that someone is pressing the mic on our room and everyone can hear us. I look over to check, only to see my own fear reflected in the glass. God, it would suck to be a suspect.

The door swings open and Elliot walks in, not looking at either Alex or me. "Cragen wants to talk to you," he says. He is embarrassed for us.

I glare at Alex and leave with a huff, not caring if she follows me. Cragen crooks his finger at us and leads us to his office, closing the door. His face, when he looks at us, is controlled rage.

"Take the day off, Olivia. You too, Alex," he almost yells, talking over my efforts to object.

"I don't work for you, Don; you can't tell me—"

"Cabot, I will _throw_ your ass out of here myself if I have to! You do not want to tangle with me today!" This time, he is yelling, and Alex wisely shuts up.

Two minutes later we are walking outside, hands stuffed in pockets and looking anywhere but at each other. I sit down on the first bench I see; Alex joins me, her body stiff and upright, touching as little of anything as she can. She reminds me so much of her mother right now it scares me.

"What are we doing, Olivia?" she asks softly. "What kind of life is this?"

_A really sucky one_ , I think. But I check my tongue. "I don't know, Al," I answer instead. It's as honest as I can get right now. "I wanted this to be the perfect life—you know, living with you and all. I wanted smiles and rainbows. Instead, I got…"

"Life," Alex wisely interjects.

I nod my head. "Instead I got life." I turn to face her. "Alex, I don't know if I can do this anymore. It's killing me, watching you live and not being able to join you the way I want to. I just don't know if I understand anymore."

Her eyes are wet and angry. "Do you want to be with me, Olivia?"

"Yes," I answer quickly.

"For the long haul, I mean. The forever kind of being with me."

"Yes."

She scrutinizes me for a long time, searching my face. "I don't believe you."

Her words jolt my heart and I realize it's time for drastic measures. "I need to show you something," I say as I get up. She starts to follow me but I push her down. "No, no—you stay here. I need to…I'll be right back." She huffs and sits down again, crossing her arms and legs defensively.

If this doesn't work, nothing will.

I think I could make the Olympic team after today. I sprinted to the precinct and back to the bench so quickly I forgot why I was running in the first place. Alex hasn't moved so much as an inch since I left her; it makes me wonder if I've just discovered teleportation.

She's still looking at me like I'm pond scum. "That was quick," she quips, looking at her watch.

"Yeah. Look, Al, I need to give you something." I fumble around in my pocket for a small box. I hand it to her, not watching as she opens it—I already know what's inside. Instead, I explain. "See, I've done a lot of thinking since we got together, and I've realized that there isn't a day that goes by that I don't realize how lucky I am to be with you. It used to scare me, the love. It was too intense. I mean, honestly, how could I justify sacrificing so much of myself, putting all of me in your hands? That's absolutely terrifying. And then I thought about it some more—we argued, lots of times—and I realized that it wasn't a sacrifice. I'd already signed myself over to you years ago. This was just putting a name to it, that's all. I wanted to give you this earlier, but, well, things happened…"

I finally look over at her and watch as she plays with the ring. It's simple and elegant, just like Alex is. The stone inside the plain silver band is a perfect match to the one inside my necklace. I figure that's as sentimental as she's going to get out of me.

I watch her eyes—she wants to be impressed and moved—and I think she is. She just doesn't know why yet. "When did you get this?" she hisses.

I crinkle my brows; that wasn't what I was expecting. "Um, geez, I don't know, maybe a week before Halkyard kidnapped you?" I suggest, calculating in my head.

Her eyes are easy to read now—pissed off. "You had this for a week and didn't give it to me?"

She really _is_ ticked off—wasn't expecting that. "No, Alex, I—"

"Unbelievable, Olivia! Unbelievable—"

"Alex, could you just—"

"If you could buy the damn thing, what was so hard about giving it to me?"

"—think of the underlying romantic gesture, here—"

"You're really a piece of work, Olivia. You expect me to drool all over this ring when you can't even return the favor and wear the fucking necklace I gave you!"

"Alex, it wasn't like…wait. _What_ did you just say?!"

"Yeah, you heard me. Typical Olivia Benson—"

"Alex, shut up."

"—do everything as long as it suits you; screw the rest of the world—"

"Alex, I really need you to shut up right now."

"Oh, I'll shut up, all right. I'll do you one better, even. Goodbye, Olivia."

I roll my eyes. "Alex, stop! Would you just think about what you just said?"

She stops walking away. "About what?"

"About the necklace."

"The necklace," she repeats, oblivious.

"Yes, the necklace. Tell me about it."

"You've forgotten. Great," she deadpans. "I thought that was my job." I don't know whether I should be afraid that she'll leave me, amused at her frustration, or ecstatic because she's all better. Feels like all three right now. "The golden one with the blue stone, in the shape of a sun? Ring any bells?" I pull the necklace out from underneath my shirt as she rants. It takes her a few seconds to notice. "That's…you're wearing it. But…you…"

"Al, I was ready to wear this about two weeks after you gave it to me. I just didn't want to admit how wrong I was. Weak, wrong, cowardly—whatever you want to call it, it scared me. And so I went out and got the ring, but then all that crazy shit started happening with the letters and I was more concerned with keeping you safe than your happiness with me. But when you were in the hospital I realized I never want to live without you. So now it's my turn to make a speech, and your turn to listen." I grab the box off the bench. "You've absolutely ruined me from anyone else. You're smart, you're kind, and you never fail to amaze me every single day. Not to mention those legs of yours make me want to jump you every time you're in court. I want to watch you burn your toast in the morning; I want to see you crinkle your nose every time you laugh. I want to be there when you smile, but mostly I want to be there when you cry so I can make you smile again." I slide the ring onto her finger. "You're it for me, Alexandra Cabot. You always have been. I want to be yours forever, if you'll have me."

She looks at me with tears in her eyes. "I remembered the necklace," she finally realizes.

"Yeah."

"I remember…and you're wearing…oh, Liv," she whimpers.

"Do you remember my question? Because I'm kind of freaking out here, Alex. I'd really, really like an answer."

She smiles and starts crying silently. "You're wearing your answer, Olivia."

I smile back and squeeze her for all I'm worth. I lift her up and she kisses me and my heart explodes in my chest. The rest of the world vanishes and all I can feel is Alex kissing me, connecting with me like we never have before. She feels so much more alive, tastes so much sweeter. It's an indescribable feeling, finally rediscovering your other half. It's mind-blowingly wonderful.

After what feels like days, we break apart. "I missed you," she mumbles into my lips.

"I missed you, too," I croak. Somewhere along the way I've start to cry as well. I don't think I've ever shed happier tears.

She captures my lips again. "I remember you," she murmurs, her words vibrating through me."

I grin goofily. "Oh yeah? All of me? Took you long enough."

She snakes her hands around me and tickles the hairs on the back of my neck. "Well," she says with a twinkle in her eye, "I may need some more reminding."

She pulls me in for another searing kiss as she slides her hands down my body, bringing them to rest in their favorite spot in my back pockets.

Reminding, my ass.

She remembers, all right.


End file.
